


Fate/Alliances

by Sha_Yurigami



Category: Fate/Apocrypha, Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, orignal story
Genre: Eldritch Abomincation Warning - Hybrid Horror might be involved, F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:36:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 117,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sha_Yurigami/pseuds/Sha_Yurigami
Summary: The journey of the heart carried the proud warriors onto the battlefield of vanity seeking long gone glory. Yet in the shadows of the Great Holy Grail War a dark plot unfolds that nobody is able to stop. How many Grand-Servants can a Holy Grail War accept until the bubble bursts and tragedy unfolds?Originally uploaded on fanfiction.net





	1. Part 2 -

The journey of the heart carried the proud warriors onto the battlefield of vanity seeking long gone glory.

Two such warriors stood before each other, though both knew that what they desire laid beyond the other. Night was approaching the end yet neither cared as the battle of sword versus spear filled their hearts with excitement.

The golden spear shone bright as the sun as it met its equal, clash upon clash as flames and sparks burst through the fields of their battle. A swift thrust of his spear met the down swing of that magnificent sword, he followed the motion with a wide arced swing prompting the sword-wielder to give up ground and retreat backwards. Just as the the sword calmed and poised in front of its wielder he surged forward so fast that the ground beneath his feet caved and broke. Just as he felt the heat of his spear charge, his face met the indomitable image of his opponent ready to strike him down.

Not far from their battle stood the saint, watching over their battle with her flag waving in the storm the clashing warriors created. Next to her stood a man dressed in a white uniform and an expression of rage marring his face, his hands absent off the marks.

The golden spear burning with the light of thousand suns and illuminating the darkness met its equal in the sword of pure gold shining with the wish, the desire, the honour, to exalt

**::: Fate / Alliances :::**

If we were to start at the beginning we would have to turn back the clock. Six months ago, while the sun was still shining above the lands of Romania a woman with hair as fair as the snowy mountains of the north and eyes as red as the evening sun walked towards a castle located around Trifas. She was accompanied by a few dozen maids dressed in white garbs as well as wearing white hats atop their hair. One of them carried a silver suitcase.

Darnic Preston Yggdmillennia was no stranger to them. He knew the moment that they sat food onto his territory who they were and why they arrived here. It wasn't that unexpected considering that one of his own stole from them, they must have traced it back to them and now they were met with this predicament.

"Gordes ,I hope you are prepared for your punishment." he addressed the man that was most likely responsible for this dilemma while the uninvited guest made their way across the fields that separated their castle from the city. Gordes Music Yggdmillennia looked at him in a mixture of horror and anger while his own creations ran around him towards the front entrance. They carried spears and swords both males and females with light brown hair and red eyes ready to die for their cause.

The woman at the front of the maids waved at them and smiled at their baffled reactions. "Greetings, my name is Irisviel von Einzbern. I am here in the name of the Einzbern to talk with Sir Darnic Preston Yggdmillennia."

One of their soldiers moved to the front, a woman, bowing slightly "Master Darnic will meet you at his study. If you would be so kind to follow me Lady Einzbern." she said while the guest smiled at her and followed behind while the rest parted to give them way. The delegation of maids behind the snowy haired one followed suit while some of them stared at the red eyed soldiers.

During their walk the homonculus in the front noted that the snowy haired one looked around in wonder, like a child, before their eyes met once again. The soldier quickly turned around but it was clear that the guest has seen her "Is it you first time?" she asked and the soldier didn't know what to answer "I mean, is it the first time you met a Homonculus like me?" The soldier remained silent while the guest seemed to find her silence answer enough.

When they entered the study Darnic was already seated with cups of teas placed atop the table. He watched the guests move while motioning for his servants to leave the room. No, he wasn't fool enough to try anything foul, especially considering that the Einzbern still held large sway in the middle European Mage circles.

"How may I help you Miss Einzbern?" he had to be cautious while dealing with them. There was no way that Jubsacht von Einzbern would send an inexperienced chick into a potential enemies den. They would need to gauge where they stood and if possible strike a deal with them. If worst comes to shove, they would need to kill them and that would result in more causalities on their side and he wanted to avoid this situation for as long as possible.

"Let us come clear then Mister Preston" he held back the twitch of his eye and the scowl that threatened to emerge "You have stolen something from us."

So they new. Of course they did, he himself killed the last Einzbern in the last war and they must have kept a close watch on his activities since then "You are talking about the Greater Grail."

The woman smiled, a sight he found rather befuddling since he was used to homunculi not emoting "Indeed. We know that you attempt to use the Backup System of the Grail and then declare your rebellion against the Magus Association." Darnic gasped, he didn't think they would know this much already "And we want to be part of this endeavour."

"Do explain, aren't the Einzbern still influential in the Clock Tower?" the homunculus shook her head while a sad smiled formed on her lips.

"Sadly our influence has dwindled over the years and the current movement that was head started by the El Melloi II has resulted in our exclusion on important matters. In fact, the Einzbern are currently a mocking stock of the Aristocratic Families for our failures in reviving the Third Magic and we together with the Ainsworth are probably going to be segregated within the next few decades. Lord Jubsacht together with Darius Ainsworth has decided that if the Yggdmillennia should attempt a rebellion we as well as the other clans are going to join them."

"And you want to make me believe that Jubsacht of all people would work together with the Ainsworth? Wasn't that clan already defunct since they could-" Darnic couldn't finish his bewildered speech, as he was now aware how they received this information, as Irisviel revealed the biggest surprise of the century.

"The Ainsworth are currently in possession of Pandora's box." No, it couldn't be "And while it is indeed empty, its mysteries remain intact. They also know that the Clock Tower will not allow them to hold onto their discoveries and therefore came to the Einzbern with said proposal."

"And what would _you_ gain from this union?" he had to make sure that his composure wasn't lost. All of what the homunculus just said sounded too convenient to be the whole truth. Surely the discovery of Pandora's box could elevate the Ainsworth from a mediocre Magus Clan to one of the greatest that ever existed -something the Clock Tower was more then happy not to allow- a sentiment he shared with Darius Ainsworth, but they had refused his proposal before.

Darnic was well aware of the disgraced family and their spacial manipulation magecraft and he wanted to reach out to them but the Patriarch Darius refused. That family was also one of the few Magus Clans that remained mostly on the sidelines out of sight of the Association, hence someone whom he could share a fraction of his plans with. What happened beside the Clock Tower's intervention that made that old fool give up on his aspirations and kneel before the Einzbern. He also needed to know why the Einzbern of all people were willing to join their cause.

"To be honest" Irisviel began and her smile faded a little before the resolution in her eyes returned "We are rather grateful that you retrieved the Greater Grail, or to be more honest, that there is no need for a lesser Grail, this way all that is necessary to regain the 3rd Magic is to enter the Greater Grail and let it be bestowed upon me…"

Ah, of course. The Einzbern had been desperate to retrieve the Third Magic for decades, something that directly related to the creation of the Holy Grail War. And that clarified his suspicion at least on thee initial front, there are still a number of uncertain variables and he needed to snuff those out immediately otherwise he everything he worked on would be swept under the Einzbern.

"Why not join with the Association then-" had the Einzbern decided to side with them then it must mean that something on the Association's side was blocking them or "Or could it be that they had refused you?"

Irisviel nodded her eyes falling onto the cup of tea in front of her, she looked at him a little sheepishly and he sighed "Please have some."

"Thank you." she said and without hesitation took the cup and sipped on it. To be honest Darnic was confused. For all he knew the homunculus was sent to eliminate them, they were still enemies for all intents and proposes, and yet she didn't hesitate to take a cup of tea that might as well have been poisoned.

When she finished her sip Irisviel smiled apparently the tea was to her liking before she looked at him with the same determination as before "I don't know the details but it appeared that someone from the Church objected to the Einzbern's involvement in the Great Grail War."

 _What?_ Something like that was too suspicious. "And then you decided to ignore the middleman and came to us." so they had the high ground after all.

"Its mostly because we suspect that the Ruler Class we had summoned in the Third Grail War is involved somehow." Irisviel revealed taking another sip of her tea and giving thanks to the homunculus who refilled the cup. "You are aware that the Einzbern summoned an irregular Servant in the last war right?"

Darnic felt like a deer in front of headlights, unable to comprehend the absurd situation that were unfolding in front of him. "So you are saying that he hasn't disappeared after the war." as much as he didn't want that to be true, he did remember the Einzbern's Servant at the time, he did not know of his Class though, so hearing that that Servant had been a Ruler was unnerving.

"Its very likely. We had interrogated Risei Kotomine, the Overseer of the War at the time, about the fate of our Servant but he remained silent to the end. And through our investigations of the War we have discovered that his residue Prana wasn't left the mortal realm. It has mostly likely something to do with the Ruler Class's special privileges." Irisviel explained with a clear voice but it was mostly likely a front since she probably didn't know more than that.

"I see. If that is the case then we will need to make certain preparations." if what he heard was true than that meant that this war was going to become very difficult to navigate through. If the Einzbern were so desperate as to investigate a member of the Church then that meant that they needed more allies. Allies that could protect them from both the Association as well as the Church. Meaning that if he were to go through with his preparations and proclaimed his organizations existence to the Magical Community, then both Einzebern and Ainsworth would side with him.

A smile formed on his lips "So am I right to assume that you wish to partake in the war then." he couldn't allow them access to the Greater Grail just like that. He knew that the woman in front of him was going to suggest something similar. He had seen one of the maids carry a suitcase which might contain a relic to summon a certain hero.

"Indeed. It would be foolish to ask if you could allow me into the Greater Grail, that is why Lord Jubsacht has sent me as well as some of our best combat maids in preparations for the upcoming war. The Ainsworth representative will arrive in Trifas at a later time since they are still in the process of excavation." the albino was smiling, clearly understanding the situation she was in.

"You?"

"Yes. I am currently capable of holding three Servants." as expected of an Einzbern homunculus "but I was mostly chosen to provide support for both you as well as that little thief of yours." she said with a smirk and Darnic couldn't help but snicker as well, so they already knew how they were going to provide the Servants when they were summoned "If you don't mind, I would like to provide for our Servant."

"Of course. But if _you_ don't mind; Could you tell me which Heroic Sprit you wish to call upon. I already saw that you had an artefact prepared." she smiled at him, in a way that made Darnic aware that he had been played with.

Because Irisviel, instead of answering him, called forth with blinding light a scabbard. Not any old sheath but the one and only scabbard of one of the most legendary knights and kings that ever existed. She laughed at his befuddlement clearly happy that she managed to surprise him before she added "I am assuming that you intent to summon this countries father."

He had to admit it. The woman Irisviel von Einzbern was more than met the eye. "Indeed. It is one of the reasons why we acquired these lands to begin with." he smiled, raising his cup for a toast "But it will be truly reassuring to know that another great legend might join us. I do have to ask though; what is in that suitcase?"

"The last fragments of Caliburn." the homunculus revealed clipping her own cup against his and supping on it, showing that she was drinking her joy of surprising him alongside it.

Darnic Preston Yggdmillennia rarely was so surprised, but he knew that for the first time in years he might actually be no match for someone, that person being the woman in front of him. He needed to be careful of her and Ainsworth but for the moment he might enjoy the company of this unusual individual.

::: Part A End :::

It was a strange sight, her grandfather smiling like a child while discussing horrendous ideas regarding the Grail War with an homunculus. Fiore Forvedge Yggdmillennia was invited alongside her Uncle Gordes for a round table gathering. Gordes looked like he wanted to run away and she could very well understand why. In front of them was the very creation her uncle had tried to replicate: An Einzbern Homunculus.

Said homunculus however emoted way more than anything she had seen before. She had seen the maids on her way to Darnic's study and marvelled at their beauty but this one was special even amongst all of them. The woman who introduced herself as Irisviel von Einzbern was both beautiful and oh so human, like a child that saw the world for the first time and she probably did if what Fiore had heard of the Einzbern was true.

"Gordes, for all your failures you actually managed to something right." Darnic said with a smile, and she had to stifle the laugh that tried to escape her lips. Gordes looked like an over inflated balloon ready to justify himself but the _not_ stifled laughter of the Einzbern lady interrupted anything he might have attempted to convey.

"Lady Irisviel will be joining our cause for the duration of the war and hopefully even to the future" Darnic said picking up one of his chess pieces modelled after all Servant Classes, the knight, and placed it in front of Irisviel "She will summon the Servant Saber. I am telling this to both of you first at her suggestion."

"What?! But I was supposed to be the Master of Saber!" Gordes roared but stilled once his eyes met grandfather's. Fiore felt bad for him as he was promised this chance for a long time now but she too believed that it might be better not to hand him this much power. Her uncle tended to, well, overact.

"Furthermore, you will both pose in her stead as the Master of Saber, as well as allow the Einzbern to take over Homunculi production. It was their craft that you _borrowed_ after all."

"Wha-! You can't be serious! How can you just ignore all the progress we made! Only because this vixen-" whatever else he wanted to shout was stopped by Miss Irisviel who abruptly stood up from her seat and walked right at the Homunculus next to Gordes. His eyes were filled with anger and he was slowly turning red from all the blood pressure building up inside of him.

Fiore however was interested in how motherly Irisviel touched and examined Gordes creation, smiling and nodding before taking its hand "Greetings, I am Irisviel. Do you also have a name?" her eyes widened when the homunculus shook his head and started to look down. "I see. Would you like to have one?" a rather hesitant second filled the room while Gordes anger seemed to have peaked.

"Why would you ask-" he was interrupted however when pure red eyes stared right into his. At that moment Fiore knew that this wasn't just an homunculus with high intelligence but one with emotions. The white haired lady turned back to the homunculus who nodded and Irisviel shook its hand happily.

"They are remarkable" she said which her uncle clearly hadn't expected as he started to gape and blush "with just a couple alterations they can be more independent and live longer." red irises focused back on him , this time less hostile, "You did a good job on copying our Magecraft and it looks like it might one day surpass ours if your homunculi are this intelligent after just a few months of incubating."

Flattery. This lady was wrapping her uncle around her finger with both her charm and intimidation. Fiore looked at the Einzbern homunculus with newfound respect. She would need to learn form the Lady Irisviel how to use her charms and how to be persuasive if she wanted to take over the Clan. It was then that Irisviel looked at her as well. The albino lowered herself to her level and held out her hand in a greeting.

"Now that the formalities are out of the way-" Darnic started before being interrupted again, this time it was the sound of a hungry beast ready to devour a whole cow. All eyes fell on Irisviel who blushed profusely "Maybe we should have the servants bring us dinner before we continue with our planning."

After a couple of dishes the group sat around the coffee table in Darnic's study, readying the chess pieces on the board. Irisviel kept closer to Fiore than to Gordes or Darnic, the latter not minding it while the former looked ready to bounce someone.

"As previously mentioned we will have Gordes as the mock Master for the Saber-Class Servant while Lady Irisviel remains within the castle." Uncle Gordes begrudgingly growled in agreement "Then there is the involvement of the Ainsworth. We don't know them yet but from what I heard of Lady Irisviel is that they will attempt to summon Assassin."

"Does that mean that Hyouma isn't-" she interjected already suspecting who else might get the axe in this alliance. Truthfully speaking she was grateful that the man wasn't going to join them as a fellow Master. His curses used humans as sacrifices and from what she heard he wanted to attempt summoning Jack the Ripper of all people as Assassin.

"Yes, he won't be a Master. With him and Gordes's exclusion we have five of our own and two from outside. This way we may be able to surprise our enemies of the Red Faction." Darnic remained calm and collect just the way Fiore knows him, although the way Irisviel looked at him was rather humorous.

"Is that how we will call our alliance?" she asked cocking her head to a side, the youngest in the room found the action reminiscent of a bird and smiled a little on the inside.

"Indeed." her grandfather answered not even looking at the homunculus "Fiore" he looked at her with pride in his eyes while addressing her, she knew that he mainly called her to teach her the values necessary as a leader of Yggdmillennia and how to interact with potential allies. This was a lesson she was going to learn sooner than later anyway and she was grateful that at least for this gathering Miss Irisviel was the other party.

"Yes Grandfather."

"Has Caules managed to secure a catalyst?" _So that's what we are going to do,_ Fiore smiled and nodded waiting for him to continue and confirm whether they would reveal the Servants they had intended to summon or not to Miss Irisviel. "I take that you already choose your Servant." Was it a show of trust? Her thoughts were revolving around that question and she suspected that he already knew which Heroic Spirit Miss Irisviel was going to summon. No harm then.

"Yes, I intent to summon Chiron the wisest of the Centaur." she smiled at the childish expression of joy on Irisviel's face.

"The legendary teacher and son of Chronos. A wise choice for a powerful ally." the Einzbern muttered. Although she was interrupted just as Gordes slammed his fist on the table. He glared at the woman in front of him with unabashed anger clearly showing on hi face. She wanted to scoff at his actions but Miss Irisviel had an other idea "Which Servant would you have summoned?" Whether that question was meant to agitate her uncle farther or keep him from unleashing his fury, Fiore couldn't decide. But at least it seemed to have cooled him off a little.

"I intended to summon Siegfried. I acquired a catalyst not too long ago."

"I see, the hero of the Nibelung Song. He would have been a powerful Saber." _Would have?_ so that truly meant that the Einzbern had already decided on which Hero was going to be summoned. Gordes apparently also got the message and fumed, yet despite that he remained on his seat. Fiore's eyes travelled to her grandfather and held her breath.

He had an expression of utter glee on his face.

Not once in her life had she seen him make that face. Not even when he announced her to be the heir of the Yggdmillennia. It was an expression that both confirmed that he knew whom the Einzern will summon as well as made sure that nobody would question it any further.

"Of course Vlad Tepes III will take the charge." Irisviel continued "His stats will be boosted significantly since he's summoned in his homelands. With Chiron we have a wise sage at the bow but I suppose you have already decided on who the Caster Class will be." she raised an eyebrow. Why was the Caster Class that important? Fiore wondered but returned her eyes to Darnic who laughed slightly.

"Of course. we intent to summon Lancer as well as Caster two months before the start of the Great Holy Grail War, that will give us enough time to prepare should the Magus Association decide to intervene earlier then intended." the homunculus nodded at that information.

"If that is the case, then please allow us to postpone their arrival as long as possible." the albino said placing her right hand above her heart "We already prepared a copy of me that will try to press the Clock Tower on the whereabouts of the Grail." Miss Irisviel said with so much clarity that Fiore couldn't help but believe her.

"In that case to avoid further suspicion we will instruct our own operators not to engage with yours. The Association probably already knows that we have infiltrated their ranks-" he was about to continue when Miss Irisviel shook her head "Is something the matter?"

"I believe we should actually arrange some confrontations between our parties at unspecified times." the homunculus interjected holding up a finger "If the Magus Association already knows that the Yggdmillennia have infiltrated the Clock Tower, then it is save to assume that they keep a close eye on our actions. They need to be aware that we, the Einzbern, suspect the Yggdmillenia to have stolen the Greater Grail, a fact that should only be known by the Department of Summoning and the leadership within the Clock Tower."

"A ruse." Fiore concluded aloud, unintentionally of course, but judging from the bright smile on Miss Irisviel's lips she felt reassured that her opinion mattered. A knock interrupted the conversation and one of the Einzbern maids entered the study.

"Milady, we wanted to inform you that the Ainsworth have telegraphed us that they will arrive shortly." the maid said with an emotionless tone before taking out a piece of paper and handing it to her superior.

"Uhm, how did they-" she started before a tear in the fabric of space opened. A young man with black hair dressed in a black uniform and glasses stepped out of the tear and stood right before the Einzbern women. He was followed by a pale skinned women with light brown hair tied up in twin tails, who was clearly taller than him, wearing a formfitting maid dress.

"Greetings lady Einzbern. Lord Yggdmillennia. My name is Julian Ainsworth, the representative of the Ainsworth family." he stated while his cold impassive voice travelled through the room "It seems to me that the Yggdmillennia have become careless if an intruder such as I could infiltrate your castle."

"I apologize for my little brother. Despite being the heir of the Ainsworth he is still a teenager at heart and wanted to make a dramatic entry like the shows he watches on Television." the taller of the newcomers stated while Julian turned towards her with a look that might kill "We have also been in the city for nearly a week and waited for the arrival of Lady Einzbern for additional dramatic effect."

"Angelica." Julian seethed, an action Fiore saw her own little brother do and she send a sympathetic glance towards Angelica. Said maid simply bowed, not showing any form of emotion, she even ignored her brothers displeased look and patted him on his head like a puppy.

"Do not say that Lady Ainsworth, I was well aware that your family was capable of tearing the fabric of space but I wasn't aware that it was that potent." Darnic said with a smile twitching on his lips. Fiore had to eye her grandfather, wondering if he knew of the newcomers existence in their territory beforehand.

Julian turned to him glaring at the older man before he attempted to open his mouth "Fret not only I in my capacity as a maid am capable of opening space to the extend like this." alas Angelica said interrupting him and the boy shot her a glare that could have many despicable implications. The maid however remained impassive and the adults in the room apparently came to the same conclusion -minus Gordes of course-.

"So the price for your power is your lack of emotions." Fiore stated and the maid nodded in reply. She had to think about this though, if the Ainsworth were willing to reveal this much of their craft then they truly intended to become a member of their alliance. However another part of Angelica's introduction of her brother bothered her more. If it was true than the Ainsworth just handed them not only their most powerful servant but the heir of the clan on a silver platter.

"Of course I'm not the only one." Julian said as if reading her mind, yet his words were more directed to the two most important ones at the table. Both Darnic as well as Irisviel looked at the boy with expectant eyes apparently already figuring out what this meant.

After the more formal introductions of every member of the alliance all parties including Fiore and Gordes were presented with three Geass contracts. Each one from the corresponding alliance partner. In short, for the Yggmillenia side, the families agree that Einzbern and Ainsworth are allowed to summon their own Servant and fight alongside the Yggdmillennia against the Magus Association.

The Einzbern remained on their stands to be allowed to converse with the Grail and will then join the Great Grail War with their own Saber Class Servant; they specify however that neither of the other two parties are allowed to operate the Grail in any form or fashion as long as Irisviel von Einzbern has been granted the audience with the Greater Grail.

And Ainsworth, simply want to be allowed to summon a specified Servant after the Einzbern have begun to operate the Grail. They too don't want to be betrayed but they made it clear that the box f Pandora has to be stored alongside the Greater Grail and be kept safe form the association.

With those contracts signed the three families then lived within the walls of the Castle until the promised day of the summoning.

::: Part B End :::

A number of events took place during the course of the following three months. One was the disappearance of the Irisviel decoy in the Clock Tower. As it became clear from the Einzbern's investigation the decoy was taken out of the frame for being too "nosy". Understandably this was planned by the Einzbern to prolong the Association from finding out Yggdmillennia's involvement of the theft of the Great Grail.

Shortly after that incident a number of agents of the Clock Tower was sent to the location the Association assumed to be the excavation sight of Pandoras Box. However even they never received word of what happened to them. The Ainsworth had always been ridiculed by the Magical Community, a mistake that they rectified by sending in an elite group but all they found, or rather didn't, was the entire Ainsworth family gone from the face of the Planet. It was assumed that they disappeared into Imaginary Number Space but nobody was sure about that.

Then just two months before the Holy Great Grail War was supposed to take place a group of fifty elite agents of the Association entered Romania under the order of reclaiming the Greater Grail. It was expected of them to become aware that the Grail was in Yggdmillennia's possession but what the Clock Tower wasn't aware of was that all the agents sent with the exception of one were eliminated. The last member of the Group was sent back to announce that the Yggdmillennia have decided to split from the Association and declared war against the Magical Community.

Now the stage was set for Yggdmillenia to summon their remaining Servants.

::: Part C End :::

The summoning was done. Before the throne were the last three remaining Servants of the Black Faction. On the throne was the father of Romania, the Lord Impaler himself, Vlad Tepes III sitting while his Master Darnic stood beside it and addressed his fellow members of the faction. To his right was the Caster of their faction, a Kabbalist by the name of Avicebron. A man shrouded in mystery, dressed in purple garbs and his face covered with a golden mask, yet an integral part of their factions strength. The Lancer Class Servant was about to stand up and address his comrades-to-be when Rider decided to shim in.

"Hey, hey! Can I have your attention please?" the pink haired Rider yelled smiling brightly at their fellow servants "I guess we should introduce ourself since we are all going to work together! I'm Astolfo one of Charlemagne's twelve paladins! It's nice to meet you!"

A moment of silence followed and Lancer sighed at the youths enthusiasm. The other Servants, namely Archer and Berserker looked at the Rider with raised eyebrows. Archer was a tall man wearing tunics and brown hair that flowed down his back while Berserker was a young lady dressed like a bride with red hair covering her eyes.

Astolfo of course invaded Archer's personal space, making the man sigh before giving his Master Fiore a glance. She nodded and he gave his short answer to Rider "My name is Chiron, my class is Archer." satisfied with his answer the youth then turned to Berserker who simply groaned at Rider's attempts to hold a conversation with her as well as her displeasure that the paladin asked her Master for her name. He caught off guard revealed her name to be Frankenstein's Monster but shut his mouth when the bride showed her teeth.

But seeing as the time for introductions has arrived the gates to the summoning chamber were pushed open by the combat maids of the Einzbern, followed by Irisviel von Einzbern who bowed and greeted everyone present before moving aside with a wide yet respectful smile on her lips as a figure dressed in blue and silver and a red cape draped around their shoulders entered the room. It was a combat dress in blue with silver armour covering their body and hands and a single sheathed sword at their side. The scabbard was of intricate design with blue and red patches with golden lines combining it into a work of art.

The Servant stood before all present, forest green eyes ,slightly covered by blond hair, looking over their comrades before falling onto the leader of the Black Faction. Lancer's eyes met the Servant's, both acknowledging one another with a single short nod.

"I am the Saber Class Servant in service of the Black Faction" the knight muttered taking the sword, pointing it downwards and taking its hilt with both hands, and thrusting it onto the ground with a resounding boom followed by a gust of wind that made the cape flutter "My true name is Arthur Pendragon."

Silence followed that reveal. That and the shocked expression that started to form on everyone presents faces. Lancer got up from his seat showing his own presence "Greetings Saber, no, King Arthur. My name is Vlad Tepes III, I am of the Lancer Class in this Great Grail War. As a fellow king I welcome you to our factions, the same can be said to the others who have joined us for the coming battle against the Red Faction."

The King of Knights nodded at the greetings, choosing this moment Astolfo addressed the king "Huh, I didn't know that the famed King of Knights was a woman." said King turned her eyes to the Rider, making the youth jump slightly. Archer sighed at the display and shook his head while a tired smile formed on his lips. Everyone wasn't really shocked at the summoning of the fabled King, that was a real possibility considering that this was indeed a War that famed heroes were summoned to fight into, the thing that shocked everyone at the King's arrival was _her_ appearance. _Probably an illusion that was done by the legendary Magician Merlin._

"I am surprised as well. I wasn't aware that one of Charlemagne's fames Paladins was one as well." the King answered but was met with a blank stare of the knight in front of her.

"Huh?" Astolfo looked at her with a confused expression, tugging at the skirt of _his_ outfit.

"Hm?" The King of Knights stared at Rider.

"I'm a man though."

"…" Arthur looked at the Paladin with a confused look "Pardon my bluntness but you are dressed like a woman…so I assumed…"

"Nah, well, uhm…I, actually I just like to wear cute clothes…" the pink haired youth admitted while the entire audience was silent. In fact everyone but Rider's Master and Archer looked as if something hit their face with a wet towel. Breaking that silence however was a chuckle that seethed into the room before becoming an outright bowl of laughter.

"Irisviel" Saber voiced with a strained voice while she turned around to her Master who was slowly falling over from laughter. The knight quickly rushed to her side to catch her before she hit the ground. The Einzbern was laughing in such a way that was actually rather infectious, prompting some of the people -Lancer and Darnic would obviously deny it- to join in.

"Oh geez!" Astolfo complained raising both arms and nearly throwing a tantrum while Saber and Archer shared a look, the knight silently asking the sage to making the paladin stop before the damage was irreparable. Archer answered the plea and put his hand on Rider's shoulder.

"Please calm down Rider, its not like Saber or her Master wanted to insult you." the pinkette seemed to accept that yet he still puffed his cheeks when Lady Irisviel didn't seem to stop her giggling. When the woman finally calmed down she gave Rider an apology and a bright smile that was as innocent as a child's and the pinkette accepted it with a slight groan.

"I was just surprised by your bluntness Saber. I seem to remember you saying something similar earlier so it caught me by surprise." at those words the Knight seemed to redden slightly before she helped her Master stand more comfortably and join the others in the round circle of the summoning chamber.

Puzzled by that action Caules looked at his Uncle Gordes who stood to the offside of the room as if he was in the lookout for something or another. Instead of sitting around and not understand the others plans, since they never shared them with him in the fullest detail, he voiced his concerns "What exactly are we still doing down here? I thought that now that the Servants are summoned we are going to regroup and wait for the Red Servants to show up."

His question was met with tense silence from his grandfather, something that rarely happened and it was surprising to see the man changing his mood so suddenly. Darnic addressed the other Masters and Servants, clearly looking at Rider with a look that didn't leave room for disrespectful behaviour, to which the youth shuddered visibly.

"To answer your question Caules, we are waiting for the Ainsworth. Julian has informed me that he was to bring forth his Servant within the Box before he wanted to join with us. Since Irisviel has joined us it is safe to assume that he succeeded and that the Assassin he wanted to summon has answered his call." he looked at the Einzbern who smiled warily and nodded.

"Indeed. The summoning was a success but the Heroic Spirit in question is-" she wasn't about to finish her sentence as an aura of utter dread and terror seethed through every corner of the room. It was such an oppressively large presence that only the Servants were able to move to their Masters side to help them stay on their feet -or n Fiore's case stop her from falling from her chair-. But as quickly as the presence came it disappeared just as abruptly.

"Wha-" Caules started before the voice of Rider overshadowed his.

"What the hecky was that?!"

**Silence**

And the paladin shut his mouth. A dark presence has appeared in the room, a cloak figure accompanied by Julian Ainswroth standing beside it. It was large, a large cloaked figure with a white skull covering its face and blue flames escaping out of the sacks of the skull. In its hands was a sword so large yet not even neared the size of the figure.

" **Rider of Black, Astolfo, I can forgive your rudeness since your sanity is only lost until the New Moon. Should you remain impolite during that time I am Inclined to perform disciplinary actions on you, understood."** the figure said, not with a threatening tone but also no kindness. The Rider of course nodded his head in quick succession before it hid behind Archer. Caster meanwhile, in the back of the room, seemed to fidget under the blue flamed gaze of the skull bearer.

"If I may?" Julian addressed his Servant, who neither looked at him nor acknowledged the question. Taking that as a good sign the boy proceeded to introduce the figure "May I present to you Hassan-i-Sabbah, the first old man of the Mountain. Out of respect for the Grimm Reaper of the Hassasin I wish everyone to either Adress him as King Hassan or Grand Assassin."

" **Julian"** the Servant spoke making the boy nearly wince until he felt the Assassin's hand, a very large hand, pat his head **"Fear not child. For your Sacrifice I will follow you onto the battlefield."** The skull lit up once again and an armoured hand reached out of the robe and around the blade **"I shall join you for this War."**

"I see" Julian muttered while the other Masters met his eyes. His eyes met his sisters who had entered through the gates unlike Julian and her eyes reflected his resolution. He turned to Darnic and Lancer who summoned his spear and pierced the ground right in the middle of the chamber. The boys eyed the action in confusion until he realized that Vlad held a warm smile on his lips.

Saber left her Master's side, giving her a warm look and a smile, joining the defacto leader of their group. King Arthur lifted his scabbard before unsheathing Caliburn and pierced the sword not directly in front of Lancer's Spear but slightly to the side into the pavement. A gentle smile ghosted on her lips.

Grand Assassin lifted his sword and let the robes around his body burn in a brilliant blue flame showing the black armour beneath. He turned to Julian with a nod that the boy returned -and a smile on his lips at the acknowledgement of his Servant- then joined the Kings in the middle of the chambers where King Hassan mirrored Saber and thrust it into the ground.

Understanding this action Archer summoned his bow and arrow and shot the place beside the holy Sword before joining the Kings. Chiron smiled at his Master who also seemed to understand what was going on.

Not wanting to be left out Rider cheerfully joined the circle, while also completely ignoring his gaffing Master. Astolfo then summoned his lance and pointed the tip right next to Vlad's spear and Chiron's arrow.

On the other side of the gathering Berserker strode forward, huffing at her Master before throwing her mace in full swing right next to King Hassan's sword, not accidentally breaking the ground beneath it.

And Caster, who to this point remained quiet watched the spectacle. He understood what was expected of him and the eager glances of his young Master and student egged him forward to join the Servants, the heroes, in their little circle. Avicebron took his place beside Vlad holding out a shard of his Magecraft which glowed violet.

"From this point forth" Vlad began is voice booming throughout the chambers, so loud and clear as if it could reach the heavens itself "We are the united front of the Black Faction. We are the heroes who will deliver glory to our names and defeat the Servants of Red!"

"Let them come." Arthur joined, her voice just as powerful as the Vlad's "And let them fail! Defeat will be delivered by our swords. Let their spirits be broken by our spears and Let us fight together in this Great Grail War to fulfill the desires in our hearts and souls!"

" **Thus our union shall triumph!"** King Hassan announced, his voice the heaviest and yet the gentlest. Each Servant carried a smile, grin or a visage that reflected their resolve. From this point forth the dice was cast to a war unlike any other.

::: Prologue End :::

Now hands of the Black Union joined together, lead by the trinity of Kings. The Lord Impaler, the King of Knights and the King of Hassassin. Joining them are the great sage of the centaurs, the scholar of life and the charitable youth. Now, what destiny might await the girl who ought to be a bride?

::: Alliances are forged by those who knew only hardships :::

"I became too greedy."

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted to create a situation that could give all the parties a happy end but I overdid it."

"Meaning? It's not like you changed the rules of the Grail, right?"

"No, but I know that changing just a single variable can throw everything off. I should have only attempted to change variable "x" instead of changing "n" you know?"

"…You're talking about Sieg…"

"Siegfried wasn't summoned in this War. The Homunculus wasn't found yet. He exists but his name will not be Sieg. What will become of him is the biggest mystery of them all."

"So no looking into the future then. Sure the boy won't have the same fate as before but him being the "x" in this equation sounds a little contrived doesn't it?"

"I know what I did. I made the Einzbern aware of the Yggdmillennia, and I brought the Ainswoth over from a completely different possibility…and now look at it. Its like the Lord of Logic is spiting on my very head just to mock me."

"That many uncertainties?"

"If it was only that. You know that if you create a ripple, that it will eventually stop but I created too many, and each one will become a wave that stirs the possibilities into the same direction as before the change."

"You mean, some things won't change and everyone will meet the same fates as before."

"Of course not. But some of them will go through similar as before the change and I pray to god that it can at least become bittersweet instead of a nightmare."

"Well, as you used to say: **It's in their hands now. Nothing we can do about it but watch and enjoy.** "

"Hmpf. I hate you."

"You're welcome."

:: To be continued ::

_A/N so the reason why I did this story is simple. Fate Apocrypha is currently my favorite Fate series and the only one I watched after Fate/Zero burned me, because I knew of it beforehand (with with Strange/Fake and both works are written by guys I kinda like too which makes this doubly hurtful to me) and because I liked the characters in this show the most._

_I admit that this story might be a little strange since there will not be a Kiritsugu or Ilya. This story takes place in a timeline in which Kerry became Heroic Spirit Emiya, so no Kerry and no Ilya, sorry._

_Besides that I want to give the Black Faction at least a fighting chance since they are the team of Royal power and Team Red the rebels...or something similar but anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this little side project of mine and that you will leave a review to tell me what could be better aór what you enjoyed the most._

_Heck I'm even encouraging you to come up with neat ideas yourself aka give you the right to leave speculations behind._

_Well then, please R &R and see you next time!_

_Yours dear,_

_Sha Yurigami_

 

 


	2. The Road To Glory

::: The Path to Glory is marked by the bodies of those that tried to reach it before :::

The once and future king watched he boy and his Servant walk onto the field around the castle. Several Golems were positioned across the hills and she suspected them to try out Berserker's Noble Phantasm. She watched from her vintage point on one of the towers while lightning soared through the ground and obliterated the artificial constructs.

It puzzled her how human the mad Servant appeared, from her behavior to her mannerism, like a child that just learned to walk and talk. Of course Saber knew of Frankenstein's Monster, the human made of corpses and given life by a deranged Magus, a mockery of life yet she couldn't bring herself to look at the creature with a mix of pity and wonder.

Irisviel's presence made herself known to her, soft steps of a woman shouldering a great responsibility yet not succumbing to it, so she turned away from the sight and met the smile that she had sworn to protect. "How may I help you Irisviel?" they had agreed on her addressing the homunculus by name instead of Master -although the snowy haired woman wished for Saber to address her with Iri- a notion that was rather endearing since this meant Irisviel viewed the knight as a comrade instead of a tool.

Instead of answering her the homunculus stood beside her and watched Caules and Berserker bicker. They stood like that with her watching the Master Servant pair while Irisviel's eyes bore into the distance. "I wished I could leave the castle…" the snowy haired woman muttered beneath her breath and Saber had to act that she hadn't heard her. As much as she wanted to bring the woman out of these walls and see the city, the fields all the sights of this earth, it was important for her current and future safety that she remained where prying eyes won't see her.

"Caules doesn't seem to view Fran-chan as a Servant it seems." Irisviel said with a smile before inquiring "What do you think of them?" _her._

Saber heard the unspoken question, a feeling of nostalgia gripping her gut "She is…They are an interesting pair." was all she could muster to say and she averted her eyes when Berserker looked up, as if she had noticed them staring. Of course Irisviel waved at the mad Servant who shyly looked away. She didn't need an Archer's sight to know that the girl's cheeks reddened.

"She's like an infant." Irisviel said before she looked at Saber with expectant eyes and left. The knight was aware that Masters shared their Servants memories in their dreams, had her Master one of them? Why else would she look at her as if she wanted to say something? She decided that mulling whether her Master dreamed of her or not she followed her in Spirit form.

:: Part A End ::

About a month after Irisviel and her maids arrived at the Yggdmillennia Castle, the Einzbern decided to occupy the West Wing furthest from the city front. The arrangement they had with Darnic was that they could freely use the facility with the exception of the inner Sanctum where the Greater Grail was located. Understandably Irisviel then proceed to bother Gordes about his homunculi in the basements.

During their investigation of the incubation chambers the Einzbern analyzed the properties and held quality controls. They basically took over homunculus production, although keeping some of Gordes modifications of their craft, and tripled the amount of procured Prana within the first couple months as well as enhancing all the currently active Homunculi with slight alterations of their structure.

Just a month before the summoning of the remaining Servants, and a week before Julian, Darnic and Irisviel came to a agreement concerning the Greater Grail and the aforementioned summoning of the Grand Assassin, an anomaly appeared within one of the homunculi.

The first time the anomaly was noticed was after Caster Avicebron was summoned and started to construct his Golems. He had been looking for a suitable homunculus that could function as the core for his Noble Phantasm and discovered one with a slightly higher chance at bonding with it. He was accompanied by both Caster's Master, Gordes as well as Irisviel who rejected Avicebron's suggestion.

To the surprise of Gordes she then started to greet the homunculus within the Incubator with a warm, nearly motherly smile, and it tried to respond. She then proposed to the Servant of creating a homunculus specifically for his Noble Phantasm and that he only needed to give them the necessary requirements it needed to fulfill.

The homunculus without a name then watched how the Lady Einzbern was left behind by the others and she started to talk with him. About what he wanted, who he thought he was and that he needed to wait a little until his body stronger and he was allowed to walk on his own. He blinked not understanding what she was talking about, yet he felt it deep within him. A desire to live.

:: Part B End ::

Berserker was mostly left to her own devices. She could come and go where she please as long as she didn't destroy anything or was in anybodies way. The artificial human also preferred to remain in physical form and mainly remained in either the gardens or in Caules room. She was capable of speech, at least her blueprints suggested that, but she could only voice grunts due to her Class.

She watched, how the artificial human picked flowers, holding them in her hand and picking petals. Caules walked to her side but remained silent for a while since he seemed to mull over something. He hadn't noticed Berserker watch him and he seemed embarrassed when she caught him of guard. He asked her what Berserker's wish was, before giving the answer himself after she grunted a little. Her eyes widened when she heard that the creature desired one like a own. A mate.

Maybe it was something she had taken for granted but she supposed that every form of life desired a companion. Life. So she considered a human inspired creation made of what remained of the dead as a life. Befuddled, that's the feeling weighting on her mind as she watched the Berserker hand the boy a flower with an innocent look on its eyes.

Her own feelings had been clean on the matter when she was alive. Back then however wasn't now and she might have chuckled at the thought of being surrounded of artificial humans that were more **human** then her when she had lived.

While she remained in thought Saber hadn't noticed Berserker trotting towards her. The sudden clucking of heels on stone alerted the knight that she had been discovered and she materialized before it "I didn't mean to pry-" she wanted to say before a bouquet of flowers was held towards her. The King wasn't sure if she understood the gesture but accepted the flowers despite her initial surprise. "Thank you." but before her thanks could reach the givers ears Berserker was already trotting back to her little field of flowers.

First Irisviel and now this _girl_ , she thought with the ghost of a smile on her lips. She left the sight of the girl with her flowers and the boy that only just now noticed her presence. She would need to borrow a vase for these or a large mug.

:: Part C End ::

Vlad was sitting at the table. Not a sight that should have surprised him but Chiron rarely saw the King and defacto leader of the Black Faction with such a solemn look on his face. The Lancer noticed his arrival and invited him for a cup of coffee. The sage thank him for his invitation but declined since he already had a lengthy conversation with Fiore earlier, coffee and cake included, and he was rather sated for the moment. He still sat beside the man.

"I take your Master has already informed you of our situation." he began and Chiron knew where this conversation was going "While I admit that it took me a while to come to terms with the thought that a Ruler Class Servant might pull the strings for the Red Faction, I still want to hear my comrades thoughts about this matter."

He paused for a moment, his feelings on the matter where already clear "I am still in awe to be honest." he admitted and Lancer nodded at his honesty, both were surprised by the ingenuity of the modern age and its advancements "Still, isn't it strange that we suspect a Ruler to begin with? Heroic Spirits summoned into that class are supposed to be impartial."

The Lord Impaler took a sip from his mug and sighed "From what Miss Irisviel told us, the Ruler in question was Shirou Amakusa Tokisada, a Heroic Figure with feats similar to the son of god himself , but he apparently only fulfills some of the requirements of a Ruler. It is no wonder that a Servant that wasn't supposed to be summoned would be irregular in some way." an other sigh escaped his lips. For him to fight a brother in believe once again.

"You seem to have thought about this for a long time." Chiron commented before his head turned slightly since he felt Saber's presence arrive at the door. "Greetings Saber." he said once the blond knight walked into the room with a handful of flowers. He raised an eyebrow slightly but didn't comment.

"Greetings to you as well Archer." she said "You wouldn't happen to know where I could place these?" both Lancer and Archer chuckled at the same time while Saber presented the flowers to them. Just then one of Lancer's stakes shot from the door she arrived from. At its tip hung a vase with handles. She took the vase and looked at Vlad with a raised eyebrow. A motion Chiron mimicked.

Lancer ignored their stared though and continued "Ah Arthur, it would honor me if you could join us in our discussion." Saber exchanged a look with the Archer before placing the vase now decorated with flowers onto the table and joined them. The sage couldn't help but see the confusion in the knight's eyes.

"Were you talking about something in particular?" she inquired while Lancer handed her a cup of coffee that he himself was pouring and a slice of cake that laid between them. "Uhm, thanks." the knight as well as sage looked at the fearsome and infamous sadist ruler of Romania with raised eyebrows and they probably shared more than a couple questions concerning his behavior.

"We were discussing the Red Faction and the last War's Ruler Class Servant." Chiron informed her and she her eyes hardened on the spot.

"I see…is it safe to assume that we are talking about the Third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki?" she asked with a rather tense tone in her voice that didn't go unnoticed by him or Lancer.

"Is something the matter Saber?" whatever it was that was bothering the King of Knights it had to do with the last Grail War, maybe she had been summoned into it even if she shouldn't remember that at all "Were you perhaps summoned then as well?" Vlad looked at him before turning his eyes to Saber who for all intents and purposes just took a single bite to devour the piece of cake in front of her. He had to blink a couple of times since it happened so fast.

"No" she said curtly seemingly ending the conversation there before her next few words alarmed him "Not the third."

"What do you mean?" A heroic spirit shouldn't remember a Grail War they participated in. The bodies they were given were just vessels for their souls, they were nothing more than copies so remembering a previous War meant that the actual Heroic Spirit was summoned.

"This is something I haven't told Irisviel yet" she muttered, low enough for Servants to hear. Vlad as to answer her voiceless plea took it upon himself to impale any familiar and listening device in the vicinity. Both him and Saber stared at him and his stakes which slowly disappeared.

"You are free to talk if you wish to." were the words he choose to defend his actions and the knight gave him a grateful smile.

"To be frank, the Grail War I have vague memories of was" she took a sip from her coffee, her brows furrowed "The Forth Holy Grail War taking place in the Year 1994 in Fuyuki."

"But-" he began "That can't be" Vlad finished for him.

"I am well aware of that. It seems before my passing my Spirit was pulled into that War and forced to fight for a wish that-" she paused and laid the cup back onto the cup saucer "I admit that I was filled with regret before my passing…and my Spirit at the time might have been forced to bear the burden of it."

"An alternate reality" Chiron concluded "So you try to tell us that in the moments of your death your spirit was already pulled into a Grail War and the memories of that time are now residing within you."

"What was your wish." Vlad interrupted his musing about the matter with a straightforward question "What filled you with so much regret that your very being desired the Holy Grail?" the look in Lancer's eyes already told him that he knew. He knew Saber's regret and simply wanted to confirm his suspicion.

"You can already guess can't you? Moments before my death the kingdom I built was destroyed, my knights betrayed each other and I committed the most heinous act a father could ever commit." Chiron sighed at those words, now understanding Saber's tone and the way she tried to avert her gaze from theirs by watching the waves in her nearly empty cup.

"You wished to undo you reign." Vlad stated and she nodded. It was a notion, a wish that could bring shame to any Heroic Spirit. Him and Lancer were no exception when it came to wishes that we selfish but to hear that a heroic figure like King Arthur was so overcome with his regrets that he wished to undo everything he built and created, to change the course of history…

"I felt like it was my fault that everything went the way it did. I still do to some extent but the me who was summoned into the Grail War fully intended to reach that goal…" she began until something shocking happened that even had him baffled. He was laughing. Vlad was laughing. "Lancer-" Saber began before the fellow King raised his hand.

"Forgive that outburst Arthur" he said and looked her in the eyes, there was only compassion in them "I understand you regret my friend. I too lived a life of betrayal. My lands were taken, my brothers betrayed me and I died by execution. In the last moments of my life I cursed the world and everything within it. Had I desired a miracle then like you did I would have damned the entire world with my wish and whilst I do not regret the path I took know that I too felt doubts regarding my Kingship. I had no such grant commanders by my side like you had your knight of the round table but it seems that even with them by your side you were pulled into solitude."

She shook her head "A King has to be a solitary figure, always doing everything for those beneath him and guiding them." Chiron frowned at her words. While admirable those ideals were far too heavy for a single life to shoulder…his eyes widened slightly when he realized why Saber thought the way she did.

"You path of Kingship is too harsh" Vlad said and Arthur looked at him with the cold disposition expected of a king, hers and by extension Chiron's eyes widened however at his next words "And it needed to be. You were the King needed at the time. There is no knight or king who hasn't heard or lived by the ideals of Chivalry King Arthur spearheaded. Your rule as an ever distant King was necessary to strike fear into both allies and enemies alike so that the utopia known as Camelot could come true at least for a short time for all those who came after to become inspired by. Whatever ended your reign wasn't only by your fault. No single person is at fault when it comes to the death of a kingdom. Doesn't your father bear greater sin than you? Hasn't Morgan Le Fay used that as an excuse to nurture her own **weapons** to cause you fall. Whatever happened after the Grail War you took part in, the King Arthur that is now sitting with us has accepted the fate given to her and a different wish I take."

He gave her an expectant look and she seemed just as mesmerized by Vlad Tepes speech as Chiron was since it took her a moment or two to realize what he wanted to hear from her "My wish for this Grail War is to leave behind a successor. Someone who will inherit my ideals or who can grow beyond them and create something new." While not perfect, it was a wish that held her honest opinion and the sage had to smile at the words she choose to describe her desire. A second chance, a child of her own that will inherit everything she is and that will surpass all of it.

"A beautiful wish and one expected of the great Once and Future King." Vlad said with a smile while pouring himself and Saber another cup of coffee and another slice of cake.

"I'm honestly surprised." Saber admitted for the both of them "I didn't expect the Lord Impaler to be so-" she couldn't finish that thought however. Understandably since Chiron was mulling over what to say as well, although he did feel bad that he could answer Saber's silent plea at him. Lancer chuckled at their antics and took another sip from his cup.

"Just say how it is. My people and the rest of the world want to remember me as a cold and tyrannical ruler who chooses extreme punishments for crimes and was betrayed for them. If they choose to remember me as such they are free to, it is the right of those that came after us after all." a smiled slightly "For my allies, my family and my country however, I will always cherish them." his smiled disappeared however when he uttered the next few words with venom in his voice "I won't forgive them for turning me into a vampire though."

His words might have been serious but in a sense they were humorous with the timing he choose and neither him or Saber could hold the slight giggle in. Vlad simply scoffed at their laughter but smiled when he sipped on his cup once again.

"There is something bothering me though" Saber admitted after her forth slice of cake, the maids were already bringing them double servings of them with the rate the knight seemed to devour them and were instructed to leave this room for them to occupy alone -strange enough Vlad seemed to be the same way _Hunger is the enemy of every knight I suppose_ Chiron mused with a chuckle.

"What would that be Saber?" he asked, truthfully he too wanted to know more about that Grail War his ally participated in.

"From the memories I possess I seem to remember being by Irisviel's side for majority of them but she wasn't my Master" she muttered. Vlad and Chirom exchanged a look.

"So you mean to tell us that Lady Irisviel also existed in that Grail War, but that she wasn't your Master?"

"Yes. I remember being by her side but my Master was somebody else…" her expression turned bitter "He betrayed me. The Grail, Irisviel, was before me, right in front of me but…he used his Command Seals to make me destroy it."

"Huh?" Lancer and him muttered at the same time. They had known that if this were a normal Grail War that an Einzbern Homunculus was used as the lesser Grail but to hear the knight's tone while describing the situation was saddening. To hear however that a Master has betrayed their Servant right before claiming victory was-

"What Cowardice!" Vlad nearly screamed "To deny a hero his glory!"

The sage and knight stared at him. A smile formed on their lips when they heard his anger. Saber raised her cup and said "That won't happen in this Grail War though, I have unwavering faith in Irisviel no matter which reality."

Vlad huffed at her before giving his toast, which Chiron actually joined in with, "To the fact that we are blessed with good (passable) Masters!" he announced and he knew by the way the other two looked at him that his little whisper was heard.

Not long after their little exchange Darnic and Irisviel entered the room and found a least three half emptied cups of coffee three lightly bickering Servants and four stacked plates that might or might not have had cakes placed atop them. Darnic questioned why some of his familiars suddenly died and all present faked their dis-knowledge concerning those. Irisviel instead joined Saber's side of the table and stole a Strawberry from Saber's slice of cake. An action she faked innocence for and laughed at the knight exasperated face.

:: Part D End ::

The Ruler Class Servant was summoned. To say that would be incorrect as the Servant in question has possessed the body of a young woman instead of manifesting inside an artificial shell. Irisviel exchanged a look with Darnic concerning that information and they shared their suspicions with Fiore and Gordes.

"Gordes, I want you to wear these gloves," the homunculus handed the man two completely white gloves which he took from her hands with an expression of utter anger on his face "These will give of a feeling of Command Spells. While we can't paint some onto your hand you at least will appear as a Master. " she added before turning to the key figures of their faction.

Both Lancer and Saber stood beside each other, their presence so overwhelmingly large that it nearly dwarfed the others. Fiore concluded that both of them were well aware of their next steps in the plan and how important it will be for them to acquire the Ruler Class Servant for their side.

Grand Assassin hasn't moved from his spot in the room yet she could barely keep her awareness up that he indeed existed in the same space as her and Caster remained as far away from the Grimm Reaper as possible it seemed. Thankfully she had Chiron by her side otherwise she might have been overwhelmed with the intensity these Heroic Figures exuded.

"We now know that Ruler can't materialize without possessing this girl's body, meaning that our fears might have become reality." Irisviel began and handed Fiore a sheet of paper. On it were the names of the Masters that they had confirmed to be part of the Red Faction. A single name stood out among them.

"Shiro Kotomine." she read and returned the look her Grandfather gave her.

"Indeed. He suddenly appeared as a part of the Kotomine family right after the Third Grail War had ended. It is safe to assume that his true name is the Ruler Class Servant Shiro Amakusa Tokisada and that he has been preparing for this War just as long as we have. It is safe to assume that all the Servants that will make the majority of the Red Faction will be powerful legends known far and wide around the world." Darnic announced "But if we manage to make Ruler side with us our chances of defeating them will become absolute!"

"But before that can happen we have to confirm her safety." Fiore mutter much to her Uncles displeasure "I believe we should send out Uncle Gordes together with Saber to escort Ruler." she proposed which earned her a nod from the two leading Masters.

"In the worst case we only lose Gordes then." Julian mutter from his corner of the room and she had to stifle her giggling or she might face the older man's scorn the same way the Ainsworth heir did.

"Why you little-" he started by stopped once he notices Angelica's presence in the room. She knew that something happened between them but she didn't know how server their dispute was and seeing the older Magus retreat backwards was as humorous as it was pathetic and she was rather thankful that she preferred the former over the later.

"We also need to let her know that the possibility exists and not force her to follow us." Lancer said while looking at her Uncle who visibly pales from the accusations.

"Ho~ it appears that Sir Music is an impatient one." Saber voiced with a glare directed at him that was clearly meant as a reminder of who the more powerful one was "I would like to inform you that I condemn unruly behavior like that and that my sword will deliver the judgment ahead of my tongue."

"Gordes" Grandfather Darnic started with his eyes trained on the man. It was a wordless command and the man excused himself from the group and exited the room. Darnic and Julian exchanged looks and it became clear to Fiore that these two had more in common than just the ice cold Magus disposition "Now that he is gone; Grand Assassin please be the last line of defense should the enemy decide to raid our base."

"And they will." Julian added his brows permanently locked together "We have information that large numbers of Syrian ground has been moved to the neighboring countries, that can have two implications but the most obvious one is the Noble Phantasm known as [The Hanging Garden of Babylon] there are a number of Heroic Spirits tied to it but the most important one is-"

" **The Queen of Asyria Semiramis"** Grand Assassin finished and making it clear to everyone just how powerful their enemy truly appeared to be _._

"She needs at least two weeks to prepare it, and since they are outside our territory we can't stop them from completing it. What we can do however s prepare for them." Julian explains that specific Noble Phantasm's attributes and capabilities before he was interrupted by Lancer.

"Young man, you seem rather knowledgeable about that Noble Phantasm, how come?" he asked while Julian looked at him with clear annoyance on his face.

"We Ainsworth have been trying to connect with the Throne of Heroes for decades. Of course we were stopped by the Department of Summoning but we documented each of the Heroic Spirits we could find , their parameters and Noble Phantasms and the appearance they might take during a Grail War." _So the Ainsworth have been trying to make their own Grail War preparations_ Fiore concluded from his words and felt a pang of sympathy for them as they too have been oppressed by the Clock Towers bureaucracy. During the course of a couple hours, Fiore lost track of the time, they had agreed on a number of countermeasures should the enemy truly be who they thought they are. However once night hit the day the existence of the Saber of Red had become known to all the members of the Black Faction.

Since they had acquired these lands the inhabitants were instructed to keep themselves hidden during the night out of fear for collateral damage. It became apparent that the Master of the Red Saber had dragged his Servant along to lure the Homunculi and Golems under the Yggdmillennia's control. While it had appeared that the Servant might be female the moment they adorned their armor none of the Masters could tell anything about them.

What became apparent though was how unconventional both of them fought. The Master Kairi Shishigou was a necromancer using shotguns, a highly controversial choice of weaponry but not unexpected since the man in question was mostly a mercenary.

His Servant on the other hand used everything from hand to hand combat to throwing their sword at the Golems and using red lightning to destroy their bodies. Before the battle Fiore caught a glimpse of the Servants head. Its hair color was yellow and tied in a pony tail and judging from the design of the armor it was safe to assume that it was a European Knight.

Fiore took a look at Saber and when she saw the expression of dread and horror on the knights face she couldn't help herself from asking "Saber do you know that Servant?" Irisviel who stood beside the knight apparently saw her expression as well but didn't voice anything, Fiore suspected that she too knew, which confirmed her suspicion that the enemy Servant might be from the same era as Saber.

The blond knight lowered her gaze before her eyes turned to Lancer. She too took a look at the "leader" of their group and her eyes widened with the understanding she saw in his eyes. When had they had the time to bond or was this something only Kings could understand? The King of Knights then confirmed her suspicions but also brought about an avalanche of questions.

"Yes, I know who that Servant is" she began and looked back at the screen where, the knight was casually swinging their sword around like a child "…he is my son."

:: Part E End ::

"Saber?" Irisviel wasn't sure why the knight just told her the story of her and the Knight of Treachery. But what she did know was that someone who entrusted her with this much knowledge was hurting from the guilt and she won't have that. She moved closer to Saber, trying not to intrude within her personal space too much and took the legendary King's hand into her own.

They were out on the balcony when the moonshine was obscured by a few clouds yet no rain fell onto the lands. The rain within the King of Knights heart however appeared never ending. It hasn't been long since she summoned the knight and she still couldn't grasp how easy it was for the writers of history to mistake the gender. Or the gender was swapped since nobody at the time wanted to be lead by a woman.

Irisviel didn't know whether the woman in front of her lamented her fate and the fact that she had to hide who she was or not. It didn't matter though. The moment their eyes met for some unexplained reason the proud King started to cry and fall to her knees. The shock of summoning a female King Arthur was quickly forgotten then and the only thing that matter was to comfort the woman in front of her. But the knight composed herself and made an excuse like Irisviel resembling Guinevere and being reminded of her wife.

Whatever was burdening the knight, she wasn't going to reveal it, and she would wait. She didn't know why but she wanted to know the King of Knights. It felt like they had met before and she wanted, no, needed to amend for something she had done to Arthur.

"Just call me Wart." the knight mutter before she had to cup her mouth. Irisviel cherished any moment the stoic knight showed a vulnerable sight, so much so that she made it her mission to drag a little more out of her every time they were left alone. She obviously never went too far with her little teasing and instead tried to open up herself to show that they didn't need barriers between them.

"Like the nickname White wrote in his novels?" she asked innocently knowing that the King wouldn't show any form of anger to her. 'Wart' sighed and nodded confirming that she was indeed called that until Merlin announced her lineage and Irisviel was forced to smile so widely it hurt "Then you may call me Iri."

At first the Wart didn't seem to understand what she meant until a light blush formed on her cheeks and she mutter "Iri" beneath her breath.

"So, are you going to tell me what is bothering you?"

"…" Wart didn't answer at first before meeting her gaze head on "I only wanted for you to understand the situation I was in and spare you from living through my life in your dreams." the knight admitted with a frown and tightened her hand around Irisviel's. A soft smile formed on the homunculus lips and she shook her head. Not understanding her gesture Wart wanted to say something but she knew that she had to interrupt her.

"I want to see it. The reign of the Once and Future King and of the woman who became King. I know the hero from legends but I don't know the person yet." simple honest words were all it took to make the King in front of her behave like a little child caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

The King stuttered trying to form sentences but she beat her to them and got just a little closer into the knights personal space. "Let's get along _Wart!_ " and the woman in front of her sighed with signs of an honest smile on her lips.

::: Part F End :::

"So we're dragging Miyu-verse into this huh?"

"The Ainsworth technically existed in the Fate-verse but they were just an off brand Einzbern clan."

"Everything will work out."

"Yeah, unless the Lord of Logic decides to give this reality the capacity of thought and destroys everything I set out to do here."

"Wow, pessimistic much aren't we?"

"Talking with that does that to you. Not to mention that the Nasu-verse is swimming inside a massive gray area in terms of morality."

"So Tharmas' giving you trouble."

"Ha ha, that a-hole doesn't care what the others do. The only thing they care is the little games they play among each other."

"You're talking as if they wrote the entire TM canon."

"My friend. If it wasn't for their existence it wouldn't even exist. Only the cynicism they create around them could give birth to this madness."

"And Zelrecht?"

"You mean the plot device in The Fake Grail War Story? Or the Deus ex Machina from the very first story Nasu has written?"

"Woah, calm down, your acting as if you're watched 24/7."

"Aren't we always? By the way, any Eldritch activity so far?"

"No bad surprises don't worry. They seem to mostly stir away from this section- wait why are you looking at me like that."

"…That's not good …"

"I am sorry but did you just say that no Eldritch activity isn't good?"

"…"

:: To be Continued ;;;

_A/N since at least some people are reading this story (although I'm suspecting that this chapter will have less views that the last since that is always the case) I want to take the time and thank those that took the time to review this story._

_– my Spanish speaking friend, sorry for not being able to answer you without using google translate but I thank you for the kind review. The reason I refuse to use either Cu or Gilgamesh as Caster is that both of them have no War potential that fits into the original role of Avicebron -being a soldier mass producer._

_DDD Hunter-Sorry my man but JAlter wouldn't make a shred of sense in this setting. Still thanks for the review!_

_Just a Fate fan – Thanks for the review and the reason why Arturia is using Caliburn instead of Excalibur will be explained in the next chapter. Otherwise I hope that this chapter gave you a little clarity on who this Arturia is!_

_EternityDragon2610-Thank you for the kind review and look forward to more! I'll try to finish the story before the end of April but not promises! I hope you will like where it is heading!_

_And to all those reviews on the first chapter that I couldn't get to, your turn will be in the next chapter!_

_Once again R &R and see you next time!_

_Yours dear_

_Sha Yurigami_

 

 


	3. Same Yet Different

::: The past defines us just as much as the present :::

The summoning circle was made with the purest of silver while the scabbard and the remaining pieces of Caliburn were laid on a pedestal right in front of it. The maids were instructed to keep nosy ears and prying eyes away from the private quarters given to the Einzbern. So far no one has violated their obligations and they were left to perform the ritual in private. It was imperative whether Darnic told the rest of his people who they were summoning or not, but Irisviel knew quite well that the man wouldn't reveal anything until the rest of the Black Sevants were summoned.

She stood in front of the summoning circle holding out her hand, which bore the Command Seals, and chanted a prayer. It was her mission given to her by the Einzberns to summon the greatest knight who ever lived and fight in the war that will define their impending future.

:: ::

Kairi Shishigou was a mercenary. He had been hired by the Magus Association to become a Master in the Great Holy Grail War. Already, he had received half of his payment and a piece from the legendary Round Table. He pondered who was going to answer his call, but also thought about what it meant taking part in a competition like this since he had his own wish. A selfish wish but a desire he wanted to see come true no matter what.

He was grateful for this chance and no matter which knight was going to answer, he knew that his chances to survive this war and achieve his desire wasn't null.

::A wish so ever distant. Like the utopia of yore. To answer the call a twist of fate awoke those that desired the things out of their grasp ::

When the light cleared and the Heroic Spirit manifested, the wind storming through the chambers calmed, and revealed the form of a figure clad in a blue dress with white accents and golden trimmings along the seams. Overlaying the dress was silver armor crafted by the Fae and covered in their script. With their blonde hair tied in a bun held by a single blue ribbon, the Heroic Spirit's forest green eyes looked into Irisviel's own ruby ones.

Irisviel was shocked, not by the majestic air surrounding the legendary king but by the gender. The knight in front of her was a woman and said king now looked at her with ever-widening eyes. Something was wrong, the homunculus decided just when the Once and Future King fell onto one knee and looked at her with tears trickling from the corner of her eyes.

Irisviel rushed to her side, not understanding the situation but the Servant raised her hand and looked down.

"Forgive me," she said before standing up and recomposing herself. "You resembled my wife." An explanation for their behavior but one that left too many questions. Irisviel knew who the king's wife was but she doubted that they shared any resemblance.

It was then did the King's composure returned and she faced her with a resolute look on her face and slammed the legendary golden sword into the ground while announcing: "My Name is Arthur Pendragon; I have hereby answered your call as the Saber Class Servant. I ask of you, art thou my Master?"

:: ::

He stood in awe as the Heroic Spirit took form in front of him. The silver plating was accompanied by red lines and red tunics around their waist and gave off the air of a ferocious dragon. Or he was thinking that because of the knight's helmet which bore not a slight, but a large, resemblance to a dragon's head. And while the figure in front of him was smaller and slimmer than him had no doubt that they could break him like a piece of wood.

The helmet then started to disassemble piece by piece and rearranged itself onto the knight's back, revealing blond hair tied in a ponytail and forest green eyes looking at him with glee. Female. The knight in front of Kairi was a woman with the looks and temper of a dragon, but her next words had him both confused and ecstatic.

"My Name is Mordred, heir to the throne of Britain. I have hereby been summoned into the Saber Class. Are you my Master?" the knight announced with a feral grin on her lips and slamming the blade of Rebellion into the ground in front of her.

: To think the legendary knight was a woman :

"Does me being a woman concern you?" Saber asked her and Irisviel shook her head. She could feel the power emitting from the knight in front of her but she was still concerned by Saber's behavior earlier. "Then do not fear. I am more than capable of fighting whatever enemy shall greet us." The Once and Future King spoke with a slight smile on her lips before she turned around and met the sight of the scabbard and the remains of the Sword in the Stone. "…I thought it was lost."

Irisviel smiled at the surprise on Saber's face. Originally it was planned for her to take Avalon, the legendary scabbard of Excalibur, into herself but she decided against it since the enemy in front of them was the sin[Idk what is this is referring to] of the Einzberns, not to mention that as long as they remained allied with the Yggdmillennia she was safe inside these walls.

"I take you are pleased, my liege?" Irisviel asked.

The knight touched the blade with a fondness the homunculus hadn't expected, just as she hadn't expected it to reforge itself under the touch and return to its original state. "Please Master, you don't need to appear submissive, unlike most aristocratic Servants, I do not need flattery," the blonde stated before lifting Caliburn and placing it at her side. Saber then took hold of Avalon.

"Then you can call me Irisviel," the homunculus answered watching with interest how the golden sword, once invisible to her eyes, appeared with a gust of wind. The union between the sword of legends and the scabbard said to make its bearer immortal was performed with the utmost care and respect. Once the sword returned where it belonged, both items disappeared while a red cape with white fur appeared in its stead. The knight placed the cape around her shoulders and knelt in front of the altar taking Caliburn and holding it in front of her. Words of yore, words only the King and his mage whispered, flowed through the chambers and the sword reforged by the King's touch began to glow with the light reserved for its replacement.

Saber got up from her place and trotted towards Irisviel after finishing up. The snowy-haired woman sealed the contract with the knight with a bow and a handshake and the promise that King Arthur will be her sword and shield until they have claimed victory.

:: Part A End ::

In the week he was summoned Avicebron was immediately introduced to his Master, Roche Frain Yggdmillennia, a young magus who by the practices of his branch was raised by golems, Darnic Prestone Yggdmillennia, a man who chased after a foolish dream due to a prophecy he received by the very people he rebelled against in this war, and the "Leader" of the Black Faction Lancer Vlad Tepes. Caster knew immediately that this arrangement was due to Lancer being an aristocratic Servant—the most demanding kind and that Darnic didn't care much for anything, aside for his petty revenge. What stumped the philosopher however, was the child that called for him. It's not that he was against Roche trying to become his disciple; he just didn't know how to act with children.

He was then after introduced to the Einzbern who showed him something he could only describe as a mass of flesh. They had showed him, after he informed them of his Noble Phantasm, to the homunculi "factory" in the basements of the castle; Darnic was probably trying to reassure him that his research and golem creation won't be limited due to the amount of prana generated by the homunculi, and was accompanied by his Master, Gordes, Darnic as well as an Einzbern homunculus. Avicebron wasn't prepared to be shown several balls of flesh that didn't resemble humans in the slightest yet possessed each an amount of Magic Circuits that quite frankly, was staggering. He didn't voice his opinion nor did he expect his musings on the creature in front of him to be interrupted by the humanoid one next to him.

"I take you're surprised?" Irisviel asked him while he stared at the creature in front of him. Many questions were plaguing his mind at the sight but they were interrupted by the woman's voice. "We crafted these 'blobs' to provide the necessary prana for you Servants."

"Couldn't you have chosen a more tactful way to describe this?" Avicebron asked letting his facade slip, but when he looked at her, the expression of understanding and regret he saw honestly surprised him.

"Gordes' creations have a certain degree of self-awareness. You may find them in the back of the basement, and instead of destroying their minds, we want to use them as assets for the coming conflict. These," she touched the incubator harboring a blob, "are their substitutes. We didn't have enough time to create fully-grown homunculi and we didn't want to reveal too many of our secrets—therefore we agreed to create living Magic Circuits that will provide for the Servants and will help us for the following war effort."

…War. How he detested that practice of humanity. All it did was create cruelties and brought about the vile and impure. Yet this homunculus, an imitation of human life, a supposedly perfect being, talked about it in a tone very reminiscent of those trying to safe what was futile—naive and earnest. Truthfully Avicebron—Solomon ibn Gabirol—couldn't say he disliked these heroes. As unimportant as their struggle was in the eyes of history, it was them whom he wished to have seen in a better world.

He wandered through the lines of tubes watching the green, luminescent water these creations swam in while he examined the homunculi. The purity of their Magic Circuits was commendable and whilst he preferred the humanoid ones, he couldn't argue the difference in quality. Caster looked back at Gordes, having heard that the man had stolen from the Einzbern and pondered whether the man was humiliated at how useless he has become. But his gaze was drawn to a homunculus hiding among its brethren.

Its body was mangled and was still developing but it was different. It wasn't like the others in that he felt some form of will around it and while the Einzberns creations were more productive, he needed a core that resonated with his personality and intent.

He stopped once they reached the tube but Irisviel stepped in front of Avicebron, telling him not to use this one. Was it because she too sensed the difference or was it due to them being homunculi? How would these artificial beings shape the world around them?

He blinked as that thought formed in his mind and the Caster excused himself from the group accepting the offer of the Einzbern to create a core of his choosing.

As time passed he used what was given to him, creating golems and teaching Roche whenever the child would ask for him and while he didn't associate with anyone but Darnic, from time to time he couldn't help but notice that the homunculi had a larger presence than before. As if they were learning…

It must have been a week before the War officially started. Caster of Black was walking through the corridors together with a delegation of Einzbern maids carrying what he assumed to be an incubator with one of Gordes' creations, the one he wanted for his core. The water within the glorified test tube was glowing with a silvery-white hue and he pondered what might have caused it to glow this way. They were transferring it to the Einzbern's personal quarters, but he couldn't keep his thoughts on them. His troubles were currently of a different nature.

Grand Assassin was spying on him. He knew because nobody else was reacting to the hulking figure of the skull-masked Servant. Avicebron had some vague knowledge of what a Grand Servant was but even the Grail couldn't provide him with the necessary information to truly grasp their terrifying nature. He encountered many forms of evil in his life but the necessary evil that was prying at his very soul was a reminder that his hands were tied in a way.

The maids finished up most preparations in the time he was working on his golems and his greatest Noble Phantasm but he knew that Grand Assassin understood what it truly needed to function and what Avicebron intended to do once it was complete.

Why or how the old skeleton knew wasn't important. The fact that this Grim Reaper was hovering above his shoulders to keep him in line was proof enough of his knowledge.

"Can I help you King Hassan?" he asked knowing that ignoring the problem would prove just as fatal as acknowledging it.

Roche had been occupied with his own creations for a while now and looked at him with a mix of surprise and appraisal, probably thinking that he had perceived the Assassin. A sigh nearly escaped his mouth at the child's actions but he knew better.

The Grand Servant appeared before him, his sword absent, cloaked and hiding whatever could kill everything in this room. He then turned to the child before overlooking the golem production.

 **"I assume everything is proceeding as planned."** It wasn't a question.

Caster explained to him that they will have a large battalion ready to fight once the War begins but the Assassin didn't appear to hear him.

"Shouldn't you be guarding the Greater Grail?" he inquired, knowing that his disrespectful tone might get him killed. Knowing that the being in front of him has already figured him out threw any form of caution from his mind. But seeing an armored hand holding out what seemed to be a priced bottle of wine was indeed a surprise.

 **"Would you keep me company?"** It wasn't a command, either. All of his alarms were going off but the Caster still complied in telling the maids and Roche to continue their work. His Master even had him promise to look over his newest creation before Caster left with the terrifying Servant.

They walked towards an unspecified location. But honestly speaking, Avicebron knew that they walked towards the Greater Grail. He knew because Darnic in his hubris accidentally led one of his familiars towards it. Vlad had been aware but didn't tell his Master, possibly out of spite, and even revealed one of his Noble Phantasm's to him and by extension Caster. Why the Grand Servant was leading him towards the artificial Miracle was beyond him but when they arrived a table sat in front of it with two wine glasses and a pie.

Truly his image of the Servants on his side was shattering by the minute. First Vlad Tepes' gentle but harsh demeanor, then: King Arthur's gender, Astolfo's lack of sanity, a centaur without his horse body—Chiron—and the childish mockery of life Frankenstein. Now he sat in front of a Grim Reaper.

He inspected the liquid in front of him. It would be stupid to kill an ally before the war even started and he needed to figure out what the skeleton wanted from him. In the worst scenario, the Grand Servant will threaten him to not complete his Noble Phantasm, which would be a shame but if it was necessary to prolong his life he would comply. But should the Hassan in front of him choose to keep him on a leash…

 **"How is your relationship with your Master?"** Well, he certainly hadn't expected this kind of topic. The skeletal knight lifted his glass and drank from it with invisible lips before he brought his attention back to Caster.

"Quite frankly I feel blessed with a Master like Roche. He makes a fine student and listens to my advice. I didn't expect you to ask a question like this though, is there a reason why you want to know about my relationship with my Master?" Avicebron was careful not to let his true feelings on the matter show. But to have a conversation with a legendary figure that should only exist in fairy tales, made him feel as if he should pick up writing again for old times' sake, maybe even muse about the philosophy of the Hassan-i-Sabbah and how their ideology transferred from one era to another.

The skeleton didn't say anything at first, stewing in silence for a few moments before speaking. **"To form Golem Keter Malkuth, you need a Core a living soul that shares the ideals as the Golem creator."** Had Caster's eyes been visible the Assassin might have seen them wide-open **"It's your Noble Phantasm and your greatest wish and the only being suited to become its core at the moment is the Master that had called you forth or that homunculus incubating in the depths of these halls."**

So it was here. He had known that the Einzberns had managed to create the homunculus and shared its features with him but they had refused to show it to him. As good as the news about the core to his creation was being completed; he didn't know how to feel about the influence the Einzberns exuded in this Alliance.

"So you already know of it. May I ask how you obtained this information?" Avicebron attempted to change his mind's direction, the danger should it become known to the other Masters what his wish was. However, why was Grand Assassin alone with him then…a show of force or a farce that his own Master has come up with? No matter what, the Kabbalist could already guess that the other Servant wasn't going to reveal his hands.

Except he did and Avicebron was left speechless.

 **"Before I became a normal Assassin I was tasked by Alaya, the collected subconscious of mankind, with its destruction in a rouge reality,"** was all the first Hassan spoke to shatter all his dreams and aspirations. **"I am telling you not to attempt the destruction of rebirth; it will not bode well for you or whoever you choose to sacrifice for your Golem."**

"…" he remained silent for a while and let the information sink in. So he had managed to achieve his dream in a different reality but it was crushed by the being in front of him, maybe even some other outside force, since it endangered the survival of humanity. He really should have calculated the Counter Force and its agents in his planning. If that was the case maybe he shouldn't have accepted the call from the Grail. "And why should I? All I desire is for humanity to start over."

 **"Then teach the child about life and let it teach you about being human."** Whether those words were meant as encouragement or not had to be seen, but Caster knew that his chances were slim should he follow up with his plans. He contemplated the pros and cons of the Assassin's ultimatum and decided to accept his offer until the Old Man of the Mountain was officially out of the war, no matter how unlikely it was.

:: Part B End ::

Saber stared at the projection, watching how her kin was trotting through the streets while decimating the soldiers they had sent out to kill her and the Master. She closed her eyes, feeling the numbness that once gripped her heart when she first laid eyes on her own flesh and blood for the first time. But her attention was diverted though by Darnic who addressed her and Gordes.

"Saber, take Gordes with you to meet Ruler at the border of our country. I suspect that the Red Faction will try the same and we would be at a major disadvantage should they reach her before us," he said, with the authority befitting a man known as the leader of his clan.

She nodded at him before her eyes briefly met Vlad's.

The King of Knights took her sword and gave her real Master a nod that was returned with a "Please be careful" and she allowed Gordes to accompany her towards their next battlefield. Saber went through the Gardens with Gordes while they went to the stables first, then to the stables; her preferred manner of travel was by horse but she doubted that the man behind her was even capable of riding one.

Her ears heard a familiar clacking on the ground and she turned around to meet the mismatched eyes of Berserker.

The supposedly mad Servant handed her a flower before leaving from whence she came. This was becoming a habit, the knight noted with a faint smile before tugging the gift into the pocket of her vest. She wore a black tuxedo, courtesy of Irisviel, with the black gloves and the black bowtie nicely contrasting the Lord Musik beside her. And while she continued to ignore his incredulous looks she continued onward to the Rolls Royce that was provided for her specifically.

They were spoiling her. The king didn't know how to feel about that, and to her disdain, Gordes took up most of the interior of this beauty; she had more than enough space to drive comfortably. A single press on the pedal and they were speeding down the roads at speeds that made Gordes as pale as chalk. While the man next to her wasn't her Master, she at least could commend him for his courage and lack of objections concerning his role in this Grail War. Any lesser man would have complained and felt humiliated but this man took it all in and accepted that this was his role. It was probably due to Irisviel and Angelica putting him in his place though.

Not far from the fields which led to the Yggdmillennia castle, the streets of Trifas greeted her vehicle's tires. The speed at which she drove was exhilarating, reminding her of the time she rode through the vastness of Camelot as a child on Ser Kay's horse. A fond memory of easier times—of times that will never come back.

They were driving along the Highway right towards the borders of Romania in a rapid speed when the light ignited the night sky. She understood this to be a sign that the Red Faction had made their first move.

A light tremor met the car and they jumped in their seats. Gordes complained loudly but she droned him out.

She could see flames in the distance and if her eyes didn't betray her, the figure of a woman landed not far from it. She hit the brakes, stopping the car not far from the location of the conversing legends and jumped out of the car with breakneck speed. Saber knew that her passenger would fulfill his mission; she, however, had to intercept that strike from reaching whom she assumed to be Ruler.

The woman had long blonde hair tied in a braid, with a silver crown adorning her head and wearing a dark blue battle dress, carrying a flag. A flag that she immediately recognized and a smile formed on her lips.

She brandished Caliburn, materializing her armor and trusted her sword to hold against the golden spear. The Lancer retaliated by shooting his flames while their weapons clashed and summoning smaller spears around her. Caliburn clashed with the might of Lancer of Red before their attacks negated each other, making the wind rise.

Saber still felt the surge of power emitted from their clash and stood between the Servant of Red and Ruler.

"I assume you are the Ruler Class Servant," Saber said once the air calmed down from their clash. "Joan of Arc? [I'm assuming Saber means her name in English]" she asked the Servant behind her who smiled and nodded.

"Indeed, I am the Ruler Class Servant Jeanne d'Arc. I was summoned to oversee this Holy Great Grail War," the Saint clarified. "Do not worry—I won't interfere with your jousting," she added before taking a few steps away from them.

Saber raised an eyebrow before she turned back to the opponent in front of her. The Servant of Red was dressed in skintight armor with a red cape flowing around his shoulders. The most interesting feature of his was his white hair with mismatched eyes. The look in them reminded her of someone.

"Saber of Black?" she nodded at his question readying her sword. "Is your aim also Ruler?"

She nodded once again.

"Lancer of Red?" Saber assumed and the man in front of her nodded likewise. "May I ask why you attacked Ruler?" But she didn't expect him to give an answer from the way he acted. And while it was naive to ask your opponent for his reasons in acting a certain way, curiosity was still a strong poison.

"…" Lancer of Red raised a single eyebrow before he stared into her eyes. He too seemed to see something in her eyes.

He readied his spear in front of him before his eyes looked past her. She assumed that Gordes arrived and informed Ruler. What she wasn't prepared for though, was the Servant in front of her addressing Gordes.

"So you intend to make Ruler side with you," he said, and Saber could hear Gordes' gasp at the accusation. "It matters not to me." he continued, surprising Saber before announcing his identity. "My name is Karna, the son of the sun deity Surya." Karna then ignited his spear in a brilliant flame.

The King of Knights looked at him and a soft smile formed on her lips. The Lancer raised an eyebrow when she lifted her hand and turned around. She strode over to Gordes and handed him a sheathed Caliburn.

"I expect you to explain the situation to Ruler," she said, turning to said Servant who met her unasked question with a steely face. "Please hold onto my sword." She summoned her red cape which disappeared in a golden light and formed into the sword of Certain Victory.

"My name is Arthur Pendragon, the King of Britain," she announced while she unsheathed Excalibur and let its golden light illuminate the night just as much as Karna's flame did. "I accept your challenge Lancer of Red!"

The Lancer smiled at her announcement and spun his lance while charging straight at her with his [Prana Burst].

She let Avalon enter inside her and started to charge Excalibur. Meeting his [Prana Burst], with one of her own, but formed with a brilliant, golden light and stroking the winds while her entire propelled toward him. They clashed in the middle of the street, pavement breaking and flying through the air while the lance and sword locked onto another for the first time.

Neither retreated from their clash, instead charging their weapons at the same time and melting anything around them with the intensity. Yet the strength of Karna disrupted the equilibrium and threw King Arthur backwards—not too far, but enough for the Lancer to spin his lance and clash with the legendary sword once more.

Fire danced and wind clashed, burning and slicing at each other's immortal bodies. The spear burned her skin, cut through her armor like butter yet the scabbard refused to let her be harmed, healing burns and mending her armor while the sword slashed at the skin—no, armor of the Hero who challenged her time and time again. Neither of their wounds remained, healing before a new one was delivered, continuing through a clash of two unstoppable forces.

Excalibur clashed with that golden spear before their respective wielders slashed at the other's neck. Saber continuously threw herself into the air against Lancer of Red who shoved her attacks aside every time and followed through with piercing strikes and bursts that scorched the earth beneath him.

He slammed her through a hill at one point, throwing a [Brahmastra] at her which she met with the radiance of her blade, Excalibur. Their clash spiraled to the heavens and split the clouds apart. The light was so bright and pure that anyone watching was mesmerized.

Karna broke the ground when he landed, readying his spear once again to meet her sword. The Once and Future King locked eyes with the Hero of Charity. The look in the other's eyes reminded them. Of a time and place; of an image they saw not once or twice but many times. Both realized at that moment that they held the same look in their eyes. Both heroes bestowed many gifts at birth yet born in secret and denied their right before claiming it through their own strength. Both heroes who defied expectations and rose to prominence so large that the heavens itself sang their praise. Both cursed to fall to their kin in fated battles. Eyes that saw the light in a single moment. One who regretted the way she died and left her kingdom in shambles and one who congratulated his adversary through his own misfortune before he was slain.

A smile formed on their lips. The knight who became a dragon readied herself before bursting towards the peasant who became a hero who met her charge in kind.

But in that very moment, a ray of light rose above the horizon stopping the King of Knights' sword from connecting with Lancer of Red's neck and The Hero of Charity's spear from skewering Saber of Black through the heart.

"We could continue this, O King of Briton," Karna said not letting up on his stance. His tone indicated indifference but experience told Saber that he was eager to continue.

"Though I doubt that Ruler would allow us to break the rules," Arthur answered, and likewise, not dropping her sword.

It was that moment that the Ruler Class Servant made her presence known once again.

"Indeed. I apologize for interrupting your joust but I have to ask both of you to continue once night has fallen again." She raised her flag before placing its butt softly on the ground. Both warriors relaxed their stances yet remained close. "Also, Lancer of Red—Karna, I have been informed that the Red Faction is being led by a Ruler Class Servant, is that true?"

Karna looked at her, the look in his eyes showing confusion.

"I do not know what you are talking about but I will converse with my Master on that matter," he answered. Then the son of Surya looked at the King of Britain. "I hope that we will continue our duel in time, King Arthur."

She smiled at his words "I agree, Karna, it was an honor."

Both nodded at each other before Lancer of Red disappeared.

Saber then turned her eyes to Ruler who looked at her as well. "I assure you that the information we provided you came from a reliable source."

"If that is the case, would you be so kind and take me to that reliable source King Arthur?" The Saint's tone was firm and filled with resolve.

Saber gave the woman in front of her a nod and said "Of course," before her eyes trailed towards the sight of scattered clothing and a smashed suitcase.

"Ruler, I have to ask, but…" The Maiden of Orléans looked at her in confusion before her eyes followed Saber's line of sight. "Is that your—?" Saber's voice was quickly cut by a shriek and the embarrassment plastering Ruler's face.

She watched in mild fascination how the woman quickly began to gather her things and put them into her suitcase, a rather futile endeavor, considering its current state. The knight then looked at Gordes and said "Help her," leaving no room for debate.

Gordes Musik Yggdmillennia looked at the Once and Future King as if he couldn't believe what he just heard. It was a command and from his ever-paling complexion King Arthur knew that her glare had the intended effect. The man quickly excused himself, cursing under his breath constantly while helping Ruler transport her property to the Rolls Royce.

:: The inevitable will happen it is just a question of when ::

In the fortress of the Red Faction, deep within its walls, laid the throne room of the Queen of Assyria. A youth with dark skin and white hair stood beside her while watching the projection of the battle that had transpired between Saber of Black and Lancer of Red.

"I didn't expect the King of Knights to be a woman," the queen muttered, playing with her jet black hair while the youth, who wore priestly garments, smiled sadly.

"Another poor soul forced into a role," he muttered, earning himself a look from the Queen. He should be grateful that Caster has retreated into his chambers to write otherwise he'd be forced to endure their stares and questioning. He gave the lady a humble nod and smile. "It would appear that Ruler will break her vow of impartiality."

"We expected that to happen eventually, didn't we?" she reached out force his face gently caressing his cheek with her long nails. "Isn't that the reason why we broke the rules twice?"

He chuckled at her words turning slightly to look at it. Behind them, swimming within the bodies of water surrounding the throne, the shadow of someone was watching carefully its hand reaching for the figure in the projection. A smiled formed on its lips as sharp teeth parted and it started to laugh.

:: Part C End ::

The night before the duel of Lance and Sword was marked by a young boy holding himself in both pain and relief. In front of him stood Saber of Black who observed the boy with a look of appraisal. Archer of Black stood beside her, as did Rider of Black who looked at the boy with a look of wonder and excitement.

"You're getting better," the knight said while Archer helped the boy stood a little more firmly. "I hate to ask this of you, Archer, but could you look at him while Irisviel is with the Grail? It will only be for the night."

Archer shook his head, letting his hold on the boy slip slightly since Rider took it upon himself to grab him instead. "You don't need to apologize Saber. When I first heard of your Master's plan, I didn't think it would work but seeing the boy for myself made me realize the potential he holds." he placed his hand on his chest. "I'll keep him safe until both you and Lady Irisviel have returned."

"Me too!" Rider chimed in while the boy clung to him.

The boy lifted his head, looking into the forest green eyes of Saber, a smile playing on his lips while the other two Servants bit the knight farewell.

"…How…lon-ng…?" he asked once Saber had left.

Archer looked at him before he sighed.

"You shouldn't overwork yourself." he said but the boy shook his head.

"…my…cho-i…ce…" Rider helped him to the bed and sat down with him. The Servant looked at him with smiles on their lips.

Archer approached him and knelt in front of the boy.

"Soon. But for your body to get stronger, you need to rest and let your body heal," the sage said with finality in his voice while Rider laid his back down softly onto the mattress and pulled the comforter atop him.

The boy complied and rested.

And his dreams were filled with the impossible.

:: Nobody knows ::

::: Part D End :::

"What the actual heck was that?! Wait. Is that what you meant with getting to greedy?"

"Aaaah…aah…aaah"

"What's wrong?"

"Forget the variables x, y, or z heck, even n! Everything goes down the drain at this rate!"

"Wow, keep it together! From the looks of it everything seems to be working out."

"There are three Chaos Factors in this g**forsaken war!"

"Wait three? I know about two already but who is the third?"

"…"

"Why are you whispering?"

"…"

"… You can't be serious. Wait a second! Doesn't this mean we have to intervene?!"

"We can't. My deal with the Lord of Logic doesn't allow me to."

"…What did you promise?"

"…A happy ending…"

"And? That seems feasible."

"…It is still possible for everything to go to hell and we both know that it can happen at any time."

"For now we can only watch. At worst they will have to deal with it together."

"That's at best."

"I tend to look at the bright side of things."

"Tch. What's impossible isn't dictated by logic but limited by the imagination, huh?"

"Wise words."

::: To be Continued ;;;

A/N: Wow I didn't expect so many people to read this (especially in the Fate section of ff dot net!) and it makes me so happy that so many of you found enjoyment in this! I'll leave it to you wonderful people to ponder who the three chaos factors in this Great Grail War are XD

miguelgiuliano . co -My man I still don't speak Spanish but no Arturia doesn't remember the events of Fate/Stay Night because she never lived through them (I will get to that later). Jeanne's story will reveal itself soon enough but I can tell you many things won't play out like in canon. Thank you also for your kind words regarding my use of the Master Servant pairs, I enjoyed their interactions in canon but it still felt rather stiff (Maybe because the Writer of the Novel had a different mindset). Still thanks for the review!

Blue Ussain – Duuudee! You're the reason why I began to write this story! I love your take on Apocrypha! And its thanks to you that I even came up with this idea of a What-if! So thank you for reviewing! I hate predictability in stories and I wanted to make this as chaotic as possible! On the subject of shipping... at the moment none but we'll see how the future developes XD

Just a Fate fan – I was so stoked when I heard Vlad was in the Cast of Fate/Apocrypha but they of course played the old "Servants died how they died in their legends" card and I hated that! You'll love what I have planned for the man! As for Iri x Saber, hey everyone's different and I can't force you to like something I do and vice versa. And while that ship is still dear to my heart I don't know if I can go through with that in this story, only time will tell. Thanks for the review!

Darthwolf – Continue to be excited then! Thanks for the review XD

Andrea – I wholeheartedly agree to all points! Nasu can't write healthy people even when they walk right in front of him. Heck its a miracle that Taiga actually exists!

Guest – Let's see where this irony leads shall we?

Shurukkah – Does she? Doesn't she? Time will tell XD Thanks for the review!

Ya know – I know exactly what you mean, I bet we've see the same even! Thanks for the blessings and I give some of my own! Let's see where this story goes XD

Guest – That interaction will blow … up like a bomb XD. Hm, Babbage...I didn't think about that but as I have mentioned within the story, too many new factors within a story can lead too utter chaos and I want to see Avicebron redeemed somehow. Thanks for your review and opinion!

Gabriel790 – I don't really like Proto Arthur (Heck I don't like neither version in the Nasu-verse) since he's more of an Otome game hero(not much better from the Eroge Heroine I know) but still thank you for leaving a review XD

Without further ado let's count down the days until the next chapter comes out XD

Yours dear,

Sha Yurigami

P.s Special shout out for **Emerian** who was the awesome beta that corrected my sloppy writing and helped with the flow of this story! Check out Fractal Scarring which might as well be my inspiration for writing this story to begin with!

  
  


 


	4. No Matter Where

**:::There is a difference to killing your brother and slaying your child:::**

He had ruminated on that thought for a while. Ever since he spoke with Arthur―he decided to learn more about the legend. Darnic had told him about them, his generals and comrades, yet he couldn't help but want to learn everything for himself. As he read T. H. White's novel, he found solace in how Arthur, his comrade in kinghood had a humble beginning in this version compared to the one she told him of. A certain sadness clung to her eyes when she told him about certain events and he found himself understanding her more and more but curious about a different matter.

His research extended to the rest of his ''friends'' as well.

He talked with Chiron about his wish for his lost immortality. Chiron was a teacher through and through and he smiled alongside the sage who told him stories of Achilles, Jason―even Heracles― and many other Greek heroes he taught. In Vlad's time, he too, had heard of the legends but never the luxury of learning more: about their exploits or why they were still heralded to this very day. To his surprise, the archer opened up to Vlad and he would have to lie if he said that he didn't share this sentiment.

Avicebron was a different matter, though. Shortly after the philosopher was summoned, he had secluded himself to the basements of the castle and had very little interaction with anyone other than Darnic or his Master.

Of course he had seen how Roche adored the masked Servant and listened to his teachings attentively but it made him wonder if it wasn't a façade Avicebron put on. Shortly after he had his date with Hassan-i-Sabbath in front of the Grail, he took his chance to meet the enigmatic hero.

"Greetings, Lancer," the masked-man intoned. "If you want, I can leave you alone with the Grail."

Vlad shook his head and told him to stay while he leaned against a pillar.

"Do you have something to discuss with me?" Avicebron asked, already knowing that something was up.

A sigh escaped while Vlad closed his eyes and prepared his agenda.

"…I take you have heard about my Noble Phantasm?" If it surprised the Servant in front of him then Vlad didn't know and didn't need to―therefore, he stopped Avicebron from answering. "Be honest, what are your thoughts on that matter?"

"It is unfortunate," the philosopher said without missing a beat. "While it is indeed a powerful trump card to play against the Red Faction, you are rejecting a part of your legend that would otherwise give us an advantage." He bit his lower lip. If Chiron was the sage who taught with patience and a keen eye, then Avicebron― no, Solomon ibn Gabirol―was a true lecturer who refused to acknowledge humans as anything but fools.

"I was never a vampire." Harsh words aside, he answered with suppressed anger, careful not to give the man in front of him the upper hand in this confrontation. Vlad knew that he was talking with a wise man, one that had rejected the world due to illness and the sickness known as war, but he also knew that those words held a hidden amount of animosity. However, something was off…

"So? Let's be realistic―who would remember the Heroic Spirit Vlad Tepes if it wasn't for Abraham Stoker and the legend of Dracula?"

Vlad grew still, uncomprehending.

"Except the people of Romania, of course―but who would look at you as a hero? To the Ottoman Empire you were a demon who impaled anyone who defied you. To the rest of the Western world, you were nothing more than a sadist who enjoyed his meals while watching his enemy die in gruesome ways? Had it been any other Grail War…you would have been that, a beast in the eyes of the beholder and a tyrant. Alas, this Great Holy Grail War takes place in the very country you receive a fame boost from, a country that regards you as a hero instead of a monster. It is no coincidence that your Master has taken these lands as his own," Avicebron spoke with a soft voice yet without an ounce of empathy. Cold, calculative and to the point.

And while he wanted to rebuke those words with everything he had, the words would never be spoken aloud. Vlad knew that the philosopher's words rang true, to a certain extent but giving into his anger wouldn't be wise. He needed to inquire more from the man who just ridiculed him.

"You are rather talkative, Avicebron. Has something happened that made you uncomfortable?" Two could play this game even if there wouldn't be a clear victor.

"…" not for the first time did the Kabbalist retreat into the shell of his mask, like every time they attempted to hold a conversation. Maybe something during his confrontation with Grand Assassin happened to make the stoic Caster's temper flare. If that was the case, then he could either press the matter or keep that to himself.

"Pardon my rudeness." He needed to play his cards carefully; it wasn't the first time he encountered someone who exceeded his own intellect. "I must have upset you, for that I apologize. I only wanted to know your opinion regarding me as well as our comrades."

"…If that was the case, maybe you should have led with that instead." Good, he was still willing to talk. "I have no particular thoughts regarding the others."

Vlad raised an eyebrow but let the philosopher keep that artificial distance. What was truly needed was for Avicebron to open up.

"I heard you wish to erase the existence of Dracula," Avicebron said.

So that was how Avicebron intended to play? Vlad smiled.

"I heard your only desire is for the completion of your Golem Keter Malkuth. I wasn't told why, however. Is that golem truly that important to you, Solomon?" the masked Servant turned to him; his face was hidden but his body tensed. The kabbalist's remained stiff and straight while his arms hid behind the cloak. From the way he tilted his head, it was a safe assumption that he was glaring or raising his eyebrow.

Vlad wasn't going to apologize using the man's real name instead of his pen name or Servant Class. He need to create a sense of familiarity.

"It was more than just a golem, Lancer." It remained mostly neutral but the tone of his voice shifted slightly. Anger…no, it was disappointment and he had spoken of it as if it had already di—ah, now it became clear.

Hassan-i-Sabbath has talked with him regarding his Noble Phantasm. He either disapproved or had told him to change certain aspects of it which must've led to the philosopher's change in character. If that golem was truly as important to Avicebron as he stated but was denied in some way by the Grand Servant than it meant…no, it doesn't matter now.

"If that is the case, then please do complete it. I want to see it decimate the enemy when they dare to attack our base." the kabbalist looked at him; head tilted slightly which meant he was confused by his sudden change in subject. "I do believe though that we shouldn't remain here for much longer. My Master has called for me and I believe that disciple of yours is searching for you."

If he truly heard that sigh escaping from the masked man then he succeeded. He wasn't going to offer the philosopher more than what he was certain the man would accept but it didn't mean he could leave him unattended. Vlad decided that it was for the best to keep Avicebron close, because he wanted to know more of the wise man who choose to leave the world behind and disappear into solitude.

On his way out of the basement he had encountered Rider—Astolfo, was it? —who was leaving one of the torture chambers. He raised an eyebrow on instinct when he saw the youth—who noticed him at the same time and gave Vlad a sheepish grin.

"May I ask you what you were doing?" the youth asked and he felt the sigh in his throat but didn't release it.

Astolfo was one of those kinds of youths he admired. One of Charlemagne's Paladins, those said to rival the Knights of the Round Table, and an eccentric known for his generosity and adventures.

He motioned for the knight to follow him instead of answering and took note of his slightly disheveled appearance.

"I wasn't aware that one of Charlemagne's knights found pleasure in…those ways." He wasn't one to judge someone's preferences concerning their "release" and he had researched Astolfo a little beforehand.

The knight was known for his "adventures" as well as his…well, lack of sanity due to the moon. The stuttering answers of Rider kept his mind from reaching farther into assumptions though and Vlad turned around to see the red-faced knight look at him with wide eyes.

"Wha-wawa—! No! It's not like that! My Master has—! She, well, uhm…"

Ah, Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillennia, now he remembered. She was the lady with that nasty expression on her face. It was a gaze directed at her Servant, filled with sinful desires which she apparently forced onto the youth who was still searching for the right words to explain his situation. The stench of death hadn't helped his first impressions. He knew it quite well but while he was forced to resort to those means, Celenike reeked of those things history accused him of.

"Anyway, it's all because of my Master so don't go thinking strange things about me!"

A light chuckle escaped his lips at the knight's pouting expression that slowly turned to shock.

"Uhm, I don't want to offend you or anything but weren't you supposed to be scary?" Astolfo said and Vlad just patted his head before moving ahead, "AH—wait!"

"I'm only scary to those who shunned me, to those that ravaged my lands and took my family, to those who stabbed me in the back and the ones who committed crimes, atrocities to the innocents." His tone was gentle despite the words and from the way Astolfo was looking with him he knew that he had impressed the knight somewhat.

"Still, why stakes?" How…blunt. If he had to describe the young man as anything it would be both blunt was well as honest. He knew fools like that; he had hoped his own children could've become that way.

"Because you can see them from the horizon and wonder what they are." He chuckled at the way Astolfo shuddered. "Perhaps we should change the topic. Do you mind telling me what you wish of the Grail?"

The youth seemed to ponder at that question and Vlad didn't hold it to him. Maybe if it were a new moon the knight might know what his wish might be, though he had expected Astolfo to say, "To go on more adventures!" while he put on his cloak and tiptoed alongside his strides.

The Lord Impaler smiled, wondering if he should ask the Servant next to him if he could ride on his Hippogriff one of these days, but decided against that. It wouldn't suit his image.

Sometime later, when he had a nightly visit by King Hassan, he certainly didn't expect the towering Servant to bring along a strawberry shortcake and one of Darnic's finest wines. In their conversation, the Grand Servant basically confirmed Vlad's suspicions.

"I wouldn't worry about him as much," Vlad told him, slowly stirring the wine in his glass before taking a cautious sip. It was ripe. "Even if he decided to betray us, I expect him to do so once your shadow doesn't cling onto is back. Men fear what they can't see; Solomon however fears what he could see."

**"Does Darnic need to know?"**

Vlad had contemplated that option but decided not to after hearing Caster's words.

The Grand Assassin was taking sips of his glass as well although the shine of the moon made even this simple action seem demonic in nature. A light chuckle escaped his lips —Vlad was thankful; however, that the hulking shadow didn't find his actions offensive.

"Let us keep him in the dark for as long as possible. While he has lent command to me I suspect him to make the matter difficult once the Red Faction arrives. Especially since his adversary has prepared for this War just as long." he took a bite of the cake, the delight [his mouth experienced was] masked by a scowl. "I…have I become a vampire in any of the Wars in different realities?"

King Hassan didn't reply. But that in itself was an answer to his question. He sighed finishing his drink just in time to notice that the other king had left.

Alone with his thoughts, Vlad Tepes could contemplate about the Grail, his Wish, Darnic, and the Once and Future King. His eyes widened slightly when he remember their conversations, the wish…a small smile played on his lips.

In the night following Saber of Red's reveal in Trifas and King Arthur's fight against Karna, the tension within the Yggdmillennia castle spiked.

Ruler had arrived in the front doors of their fortress. A blonde woman with her hair tied in a long braid wearing a simple school uniform.

Saber was in her black suit helping the woman with her luggage and accompanying her towards the Einzbern Chambers. Vlad assumed that the Ruler Class Servant only agreed to follow them if she got to meet the source of their information. He had wondered what her True Name was but it wouldn't matter for now.

Vlad looked at Arthur, both nodded at one another before the blonde disappeared into the building.

He stayed on the balcony, overlooking the country he loved and fought for. A tired sigh left his lips while Darnic inquired if something was the matter. But instead of answering, he had a different plan.

"Darnic, I don't want you or anyone of your family to follow me."

His Master nearly tripped and fell over.

"And I don't want any of your familiars following me either. Should I notice even one of them, then by the Lord Almighty I will impale your most prized possession." To emphasis his point a spike rose from the ground inches away from Darnic's groin. "I will take my leave and visit the city while I can."

"M-My liege!" Darnic called out for him, his face pale, but he trotted forward as if he hadn't heard his Master's outcry. The fool wouldn't use one of his Command Seals either since he knew that Vlad would never betray them and those were too valuable to be wasted on a whim.

As he walked, his eyes met Fiore's who sat beside Chiron. Both of them were contemplating how to perform their assault on the Red Faction's Saber. He felt a pang in his heart when he thought about that Saber. Surprised by his appearance, Fiore greeted him with a bow and Vlad patted her head before he passed them. He heard the shocked gasped from the child while Chiron sent him a smile and he continued to stride through the castle, a certain person in mind.

He passed Astolfo and his Master on the way out, noticing the animosity the woman seemed to harbor against her Servant now. He let a spike materialize beside her head at which Celenike shrieked and looked at him incredulously. The Lord Impaler leveled her with a glare while Astolfo giggled at his Master's expense.

"Going out?" he asked, probably hoping to accompany him but Vlad doubted that the woman next to the knight would allow him to.

The look in her eyes reminded him of the degenerates he met within the Ottoman Empire and it disgusted him to see a youth like Astolfo being under her heel. He contemplated to make precautions should that woman go through with her vile desires. It was also rather concerning that some of the homunculi stationed around her barracks went missing. News of that kind weren't new or untypical since their war efforts sometimes resulted in deaths, those creations were still children in a way.

"Yes. How is our little knight by the way?" It was a valid question and from the way Celenike's face contorted, he figured out where her animosity stemmed from.

Jealousy was one of the deadly sins for a reason…that was a matter for a different time though although he would need to talk with Darnic first. His attention returned to Astolfo when the Servant started to talk.

"Growing and becoming stronger. He should be ready when the battles start for real!"

Good. Vlad gave the knight a smile before turning around to continue his search.

From the way Celenike screamed when he left, the Lord Impaler pretty much guessed that Astolfo had a rough day ahead of him. He recited a small prayer for the knight and made his way through the halls straight into the gardens.

Berserker turned around to look at him, the flowers in her hand freshly picked with care and woven together to form a crown. He looked at her and she held the crown out for him.

"Berserker, I would like to ask you to accompany me today, as we are going into the city." The girl in front of him sprung up and rushed straight at him.

He suppressed the chuckle in his throat and motioned for her too follow him.

Caules who had been there watched with wide open eyes and mouth how the Lord Impaler took his Servant out for the day.

The two of them moved through the gardens straight to the stables where his special horse was prepared. It was a Destrier horse, said to be the strongest breed in the world during his times and rather fittingly covered in armor plates. He patted the mare on the head, instructing the Servants to take off the platting. It didn't take them long and Lancer mounted the mare. At his side, Berserker watched with a slightly pink complexion.

He held out his hand for her to take and she stared—her inner conflict was clear. But to his surprise, she took his invitation and Vlad helped her onto the mount. She ended up sitting front of him while he held the reigns in front of her and signaled for his mare to take them out of these walls. His eyes then fell on Gordes who had remained within the Roll Royce. The man apparently couldn't take Arthur's driving, pity. Though Vlad personally found Irisviel's more terrifying.

As the horse went on to the city, his thoughts turned to their attire. If Saber and Ruler were wearing modern clothing should their follow suit as well? He extended that question to the girl in front of him and the red head nodded with a slight grump.

Once inside Trifas, he marveled at the state. Everything looked as it did oh so many years ago, sure slight differences were expected especially considering their choice of vehicle, but it filled him with pride that parts of Wallachia had prospered, existed, to this day and wasn't forgotten by the cruel sands of time.

Many people were staring at them, some with eyes filled with awe they would never understand while others looked at Vlad as if he was their deliverer. He didn't blame them. They were dressed as if they were going to a medieval fair.

Once they arrived at an adequate establishment that seemed to sell clothes, Lancer climbed off his mare. He helped Berserker as well, holding his hand out for her to take. She ended up jumping off instead.

Entering the store, Vlad handed the clergy a moderate amount of money to provide them with clothing appropriate for the times. The clergy's eyes nearly fell from their socks when they saw how much Vlad had handed to them and eagerly led both of them to a cabin.

Since it was a rather small store, the selection was modest and he waited for the girl to come out and show her new gear. The redhead was dressed in a simple blue-stripped summer dress with a pink blouse over it and a pink scarf. In addition, she had been given leggings and blue dress shoes. Lancer had noticed before that she had certain areas of her body covered but didn't comment on those. Instead he told her she looked pretty and Berserker blushed a little before smiling.

When inside the cabin himself, he de-materialized his clothing and dressed himself in a Victorian-styled black suit with a light neon green vest covered in a wave pattern that shimmered in the light, a white shirt, black slacks and fine black leather shoes. Afterward he examined himself in the mirror with a pleased smile before exiting the cabin and meeting Berserker's partially-covered eyes. They were of different color—maybe that was the reason why she covered them with her hair.

She clapped letting out affirmative grunts which he accepted with a bow.

When they were certain of their clothing, Vlad motioned for Berserker to follow him in front of the dress room mirror. He parted his hair; letting most of it fall over the right of his face and used clips to hold it in place. The girl mimicked him using multiple clips in a cross to hold her bangs right over her eyes and presented herself in a huff. A raised eyebrow was all she met but he let it up thinking to himself that the girl may do as she wanted.

However, he wondered why she thought she needed to cover herself like this. But it was nothing to worry about, letting her follow along.

When she noticed something, he would follow her, like for the florist who had a substantial variety of local flowers. From the side, he could see her eyes widen slightly at the display, maybe a slight sparkle as well, though he had to stop her hand from touching it. She grunted at him but let Vlad drag her away.

The two of them were strolling through the streets, from time to time stopping to admire the scenery and the city life. Berserker dragged him from one place to another, sometimes she pointed at a flower other times at a cute animal but at certain occasions she would stop and eye a food stand. He followed her gaze and wonder if she even had the digestive organs but dismissed that thought immediately. He walked past her to a crepe stand and made a motion for her to follow and choose.

He paid the cook and watched in mild fascination how the girl devoured her strawberry crepe in hasty bites; she even ate the wrapping paper. The monarch was puzzled for a moment before noticing that she stared at him. Vlad shook his head gently and procured a handkerchief to wipe the cream of the girl's cheek and nose. Table manners were the least he expected of a maddened heroic spirit after all.

From time to time Berserker would fidget but he ignored it. The girl was conscious of the stares his landsmen threw her, he understood that, but by showing her that their stares weren't ill-intended, he hoped that she could relax. Or maybe not, judging from how the girl bumped into him and clung to his arm. He glanced at the thing she ran from and held back a smile when he saw a dog waggling his tail at them. But why this creature terrified Berserker was a pressing matter.

Vlad led them away from the animal into an adequate restaurant he had spotted beforehand. The girl was still clinging to his arm and he pondered whether he should ask her or not. Maybe it had something to do with her history? Vlad wasn't oblivious when it came to the "Perfect Human" as Victor Frankenstein had put it in his notes and he wondered how the scientist even thought he could create something perfect from the dead. This girl's story was made into a novel, a play and then into a movie, although those versions were all men. Misgendering heroic or fictional characters seemed to be a theme in these Grail Wars and he wondered what else was left out from history.

When they entered the establishment their eyes fell on a pair he honestly hoped to encounter that day.

The girl let out a soft gasp when she saw the blonde who ate her lunch without an ounce of manner. Vlad was more interested in why Berserker didn't growl at them.

The blonde was accompanied by a rough-looking gentleman with brown hair and scars adorned any free inch of his body, but his most memorable feature was the shades he wore indoors. He ignored the pair and led Berserker to a table not far from them.

A waitress arrived and asked what they would like to eat. He smiled before telling her to give the table with the blond whatever they wanted with the reason of, "A complement for the play they performed last night. It was very entertaining."

The waitress blinked and smiled, promptly noting his words down on a notepad. After their orders were taken, the waitress walked over to the blonde and the man's table, likely telling them about his words. Neither reacted visibly and the monarch felt the blonde's gaze on him. The waitress returned to Vlad and Berserker with a rather embarrassed look.

"Those fine people would like to invite you to their table. Would you accept?" she asked.

"Of course," he said without as much as looking over his shoulder, though Berserker tilted her head in confusion. "Please be so kind to bring our order to their table then."

As slow as he could, Lancer stood up from his seat but Berserker didn't and stood up in a spurt that threw her chair down onto the floor. He gave her a look and she nodded. The girl picked up her chair and placed it where it was following the leader of their faction to the table where the other pair sat.

Those two shifted around and sat on the same half of the table while Berserker and he sat opposite from them.

"A play huh?" the blond spat and Vlad let a smile grace his lips. "Hope you enjoyed the performance then 'cause you're **playing** with us tonight."

Her partner didn't react much and simply gave both of them a greeting. The redhead eyed the blond carefully. In a way he understood her confusion but there were enough differences between the Black Faction's blonde and the one in front of them.

Their order arrived and the table was filled with entrees and appetizers. His eyebrow rose when he saw the waitress' eyes tearing up and the way her jolly smile nearly split her face in two. Had they ordered that much? Then again as a warlord, he knew that hunger was the enemy and pierced the nearest steak with a fork.

"Fitting for the Lord Impaler," the blonde commented with a smirk but he paid it no mind. He figured that the other faction already knew of him and his Class; there was no reason to feel threatened either despite the hostility the blond radiated.

"May I ask why the defender of this country has decided to grace us with his presence?" the scarred man inquired.

While eating the dish in front of him, he shot the man a look. The man was leaning on his elbow while his shades showed his eyes slightly. His posture was neutral yet his mimic revealed his curiosity and caution.

"Fret not I had not known that you were dinning in this place." Although he suspected that they would have encountered one another anyway. "I do have to say though, Saber of Red—I am surprised by your choice of attire."

The Servant in front of him was dressed in a simple red leather jacket, a white t-shirt and scandalously short jeans. She shot him a look that he deflected by biting down on his meat. The knight mimicked his action and started to devour her own food as well while her Master sighed and drank from his mug. Berserker shifted her gaze from him to Saber of Red and back to her own plate.

"The night has not fallen yet, so there is no reason for us to be hostile with each other," he said to Berserker who perked up from his words, peculiarly, lifting his own mug.

The necromancer Kairi Shishigou, if he remembered his name correctly, looked at him for a moment before toasting him. The wary glances from Berserker and the Red Faction's Saber aside, he knew that the man in front of him was contemplating how this situation would unfold. He could order them a new drink, spike it with some substance and hope that it incapacitated either Vlad or the girl long enough for Saber to finish them off. But he doubted that the man would be foolish enough to assume that a tactic like that would work.

Saber of Red was occupied with eating whatever was on her plate and the Lord of Romania held back a chuckle when he saw Berserker mimicking the blonde's rough eating habits. Incidentally, said mimicking resulted in the blond sending the girl a palpable glare before she wiped her face with a handkerchief.

He raised an eyebrow at the action, had she become self-conscious and therefore embarrassed by her own actions? Judging from the slightly reddened cheeks it was safe to assume so. Vlad took out his own kerchief to wipe Berserker's face clean, ignoring the opposing pair's surprised reaction.

"Now let us come to business," he said once they finished a rather large serving.

Kairi looked at the amounts of plates, probably wondering how much it costs to buy out a restaurant's food supply, but the necromancer's eyes turned sharp once Lancer started to talk.

"I was informed that a Ruler Class Servant was associated with the Red Faction, might you know something about that?" Vlad noticed a lack of overreaction from the pair but surprise formed—Saber more than her Master, though it seems that might have suspected something was off with their faction.

"Hm, sorry to say though but we heard that **Ruler** was with your group," Kairi said, calm, but his head tilted so that his eyes fell onto Saber of Red.

Telepathy. A rather handy trick for both Masters and Servants to communicate without spoken words. But looks said more than words and judging from their set jaws and the furrow of Saber's brow, he could deduce that they had something planned.

"Ruler Jeanne D'Arc simply accepted our invitation for tea, though it is not her we spoke of. We are talking about the Ruler of the Third Holy Grail War Amakusa Shirou Tokisada."

Kairi's eyes opened slightly yet his surprise was kept in moderation.

"Huh…sorry to say this but the both of us haven't been in contact with the others in our faction much so I can neither confirm nor deny your accusation." he took a sip from his mug, a small, hidden smile forming.

They knew something was up. The necromancer just confirmed that they had suspicions regarding someone in their faction. Did it mean they came in contact with Amakusa Shirou or were they just not team players? No, it was safer to assume that Saber's instincts had something to do with it. If she truly was who they thought then…

"Doesn't matter though, right? All I gotta do is beat all your asses and win," Saber of Red said, not only interrupting his musings but causing Berserker to growl at her like a beast.

Saber snarled back defiantly, meeting the redhead's glare with her own while leaning forward on her elbow. "What's wrong? Wanna go at it or what? Or can't you accept the truth that you can't beat me?"

Ah, provocation, a fundamental aspect of warfare, and that look in her eyes. Vlad smiled to himself before he reached out to grab Berserker's shoulder and nudge her back on her seat. She looked at him with confusion in her eyes but complied, though she still flared her teeth at the blond in front of her.

"Berserker/Saber." He and Kairi said, mimicking the other's action in pulling the girls apart.

Saber was still challenging the girl in front of her and both were locked in a glaring contest. The winner would be him, should they compete, but that was beside the point.

"A change of subject then." he only needed to sow the seeds, no reason to rush his enemies' downfall. "Mordred **Pendragon** , I assume your wish for the Grail is to take the throne you were denied?"

The knight switched her glare to him and leaned backwards on her seat.

"How did you figure it out? Do you have someone from my era on your team or what?" he smiled at her attempts at sounding nonchalant and the way her eyes shone with defiance. He saw those eyes many times, many more if he remembered his younger years correctly.

"My wish is to eradicate Bran Stoker's Novel from existence," Vlad replied instead, riling her up.

The knight threw a scowl his way while Kairi leveled her with a glance and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you expect us to reveal our wishes?" Kairi asked, ending this little game though the monarch couldn't say that he was saddened by it.

Vlad's gaze lingered on Saber of Red. Her deviant glare woke something within him and he softened slightly.

"With an attitude like that, how can you expect to exceed your father's kingship?" An obvious taunt—he didn't need to say much to rile her up; that much was established, she was a child after all and her glare hardened ever so slightly. "For a child like you to exceed the Once and Future King—" he expected the interruption though not the words she choose.

"Well sucks to be you then! Guess what? You're wrong!" he saw Saber's Master make a face, probably trying to tell her not to but the child's mouth was faster than any command he could have spit out. "I will take out the sword from the stone!"

It wasn't an **if** , far from it, the girl in front of him announced her wish like a certainty. While Kairi just let his hand ran through his hair while sighing, Vlad noticed the agape expression on Berserker's face. But after just a few seconds of silence that fell between the groups the Lord of Romania couldn't hold it any longer.

He laughed. Boisterously. Loud and unabashedly. Surprising the other guests in the restaurant as much as the other occupants of their table.

Could you hold it to him? To hear the child of his friend, the one they had to reject, announce their wish to challenge the sword of choosing! It wasn't malicious, no, he felt something he sought, an emotion he remembered yet forgot.

"You think you have what it takes to lift that sword?" his words were filled with curiosity.

Saber—no, Mordred smiled viciously. "Of course! I will show my father that he was wrong in denying me my right!"

"I see," was all he had to say to the matter taking another sip from his coffee, just like Saber, while the other two looked at them with a fair amount of surprise. "I can't say that it isn't your right to succeed your father's throne, yet…" he trailed his sentence waiting for the other Servant to latch onto every bit he was going to say. She was either going to rage, take his words like a grain of salt or…

"…If I remember correctly from your legend, you shouldn't be older than a decade. Your mother, Morgan le Fay, accelerated your aging so even if you lifted the sword and became king, how long would you have lived to see where your reign led?" How was she going to react? Kairi's mind would try to figure out how they gathered this much information already. Mordred was a different matter.

Though Vlad didn't expect Berserker's soft gasp or the widening eyes which watched the blond knight intently. From the looks on Saber's and Kairi's faces he could gauge that the Master has dreamed of his Servant's past and understood her greatly for his eyes searched hers but the knight didn't. She has sunken into her own mind. The thought of her own short mortality shouldn't have occurred to her yet. Should he press or oblige?

Whether Mordred was going to answer him or not the words he'd choose will impact how their conversation was going. The necromancer might as well decide that this was enough and they would leave which would be the worst possible outcome. Just as he was about to find his words, Kairi too for the matter, a small timid voice broke through the silence between them.

"Ar-ruth-ar" his, and by extension everybody's eyes widened at the words that returned the knight to the present. The blond looked at her with raised eyebrows which started to furrow. Vlad looked a Berserker. He hadn't expected her to say a word, he wasn't even aware she could, but he was pleasantly surprised.

Mordred shot the girl a look that both said nothing and everything. It was a spite filled glare yet not one directed at Berserker.

"I seem to have said too much" the monarch said smiling to himself. "Could I offer you another serving as an apology though?"

"No thanks, I know that tactic." Mordred said with indignation, eyeing him and his eyebrows rose. The remembrance was strong. This feeling he couldn't name, yet filled his blood with a lust for battle. If it wasn't for Berserker's innocent eyes looking at him, he knew that the temptation would be too strong. "I'll give out rounds today. Not this fancy stuff—can't get full with these little portions."

Astonishingly enough he wasn't even surprised by Mordred's outburst. Like father, like son, Arthur was the same when the three—him, Arthur and Chiron, ate dinner together. To hear the rejected child say the same words made him curious. He wondered though, despite being their enemy Vlad didn't know whether it was good that Berserker took an extended interest in the Knight of Treachery or not.

When they exited the establishment the owners themselves came and thanked them for their visit and that they should come again in the future. The four of them somehow became a party that now traveled through Trifas in search for a healthy serving of food that was cheap enough for the necromancer to finance. Berserker seemed to make it a habit to remain closer to him while Saber continued to glare at her from the side. Vlad saw from the corners of his eyes that people watched them with mild interest, his ears receiving words like "fathers" and "daughters" to which he held back a light chuckle.

They had settled on a slow pace and he entertained himself by talking with Berserker about her interest in flowers. Naturally her reply consisted mostly of grunts but the occasional word was communicated.

 _Berserker_ , he voiced telepathically, not stopping his mouth from forming words and she looked at him in anticipation, _if tonight Saber of Red's Master intends to help her—refrain from killing him—only stop him from helping her and don't meddle. Can you do that?_ It was rare for him to plead and Berserker seemed to pick up on his intent and grunted with an affirmative nod in reply.

Kairi eyed them from the corner of his eye while Saber of Red practically dragged him to a burger stand. Berserker mimicked her action with Vlad but he noticed that her pull wasn't as forceful.

Once they ordered enough hefty servings, Kairi handed him a large burger with a wooden pike impaling it in the middle and the flag of Romania attached at the top. He raised an eyebrow at the man who waved the accusatory glance with, "A Vlad the Impaler Burger Special for the Lord of Romania, fitting isn't it?" but he let that comment pass. He did, however, find it peculiar that Berserker mimicked Mordred's lack of manners while she devoured the jumbo-sized burger.

Was she intentionally trying to agitate Mordred or did she think all girls acted the way that tomboy did? If it was the former then it showed its result since the Red's Saber growled at Berserker with a glare that deflowered cows of their hide.

"How did you figure out my true name?" Mordred directed her glare at him, making Vlad laughed at the [indicated] accusation. "You avoided the question before so spit it out old man." His brow twitched at those word and she caught it. "C'mon **old** man, or are you so senile that you can't remember a conversation after less than an hour?"

"Says the brat that doesn't have any manners and dresses like a **hooker**." Both Kairi and Berserker looked at him with wide eyes. "You're well aware that with that scandalous article of clothing, anyone, especially our Masters, could figure out your identity."

"Yeah, yeah, and anyone and their grandma could figure out that you're the Lord Impaler. Heard that you boned at least fifty people last month, must have felt pretty good when the people ya bed can't move." Mouths fell open at those words but he scoffed at her.

"Please, I'm the Impaler not the Impregnator; unlike you I have both preferences and class when it comes to my companions. And wasn't there a story of you trying to follow Oedipus' footsteps by seducing your father's wife?"

"She wasn't my mother—and not even that attractive so I don't get where that came from. Gotta admit though, that seeing her face once her affair with that secondhand excuse of a knight came out was priceless. But I bet your execution must have been just as hilarious!"

"Ha! It was terrific! You should have seen those fools' mouths when I glared at them! The only time they felt safe was after my death and even then they feared that I would step out of my grave to haunt them."

"Right, right, you're a vampire. No wonder you're so transparent. Bet your blood sugar's low, huh? Or was it blood pressure? Is that the reason why you ate all that bloody meat?"

"Says the British brute. I believe somebody needs to check their eyes—excuse me, their entire brain. Last time I checked, vampires can't come out when the sun was up. But what can you expect from a child that didn't even manage to succeed with her rebellion and died in a puddle of her own blood after getting smacked on her butt by her father."

The silence that fell between that exchange of words was baffling. Kairi had both his hands on his head while Berserker looked between the knight classes in utter shock and confusion, both couldn't close their mouths. The Lord Impaler and the Knight of Treachery glared at each other while impaling their burgers, causing anyone in their vicinity to jump.

"…"

"…"

Once utter silence settled all around them and the breaths, even those who didn't know what was really going on, were held…

Both of them started to laugh. Mordred keeled over hitting her head against the table while she held her stomach while Vlad held one hand to his head and laughed while arching backwards. Neither of their companions could make rhyme or reason from that exchange and glanced at each other. Kairi who realized what he just did with a Berserker Class of all people sighed and leaned his head backwards, not even trying to make sense of this.

While they caught their breaths, Saber chuckled lightly complimenting Vlad.

"Man—I didn't think you'd play along with that. All ye king types are normally so stuck up!" she said while he took a napkin from his breast pocket and wiped the droll he released from the corner of his mouth.

"You've forgotten that before I was king, I was just a general of an army of idiots and backstabbers. And while I managed to create this country, well, you know," he replied noticing only now his companion's distressed expression. Had she worried that he snapped? Vlad handed her half of his now messed up burger which Berserker eagerly took.

"Guess we're both infamous then. In our legends and when we lived," Mordred whispered and he nodded.

After that little exchange, nothing of importance happened afterwards. They chatted about their own times a little and even included Berserker and Kairi in their discussion. Both knew that once night fell this little friendship-spiel was over and even when they made fun of each other they were gauging the other's weakness.

"Man, but why is this city so old school?" the knight complained once they started to trot trough the city.

"I don't mind it that much. Trifas reminds me of the times we lived in. A nostalgic feeling if I had to put it in words."

"Yeah, sure, but I wanted to see a modern city. Not. This!" Vlad scoffed at her words but didn't give a reply once he noticed that someone was trying to communicate with him, sighing.

Vlad ignored the inquiries of both Darnic and Saber about what he was doing. They contacted him via telepathy but he simply told them to stand down. He knew what he was doing and nobody understood this matter better than the defender of this country.

Although he was curious as to why Berserker and Saber of Red were growling at each other again.

"Kids, right?" Kairi said next to him and he had to agree "So, about that Ruler—" Good, this was what he wanted "—why do you think our Faction got someone like that?"

Vlad smiled.

"You already know that Darnic is a Master of the Last Grail War, right?" the necromancer stilled at those words but nodded in reply. "At the time, he noticed someone or rather, something, that shouldn't have taken part in it—a Ruler Class Servant. And while Darnic managed to steal the Greater Grail in the end, he never knew for certain if the Ruler's presence left this plane of existence."

Kairi hummed, stroking his goatee. "So you assume that Amakusa Shirou has survived for the past sixty years and is now a Master in this Grail War?"

It was a cautious guess but the man summed up all the points he wanted to make.

"Do you know somebody that could fit in?" Vlad asked.

"Hm…nothing concrete. We only met one other Master in our Faction and that was a member of the Church." his eyes narrowed slightly "Though his Servant was the reason why we decided to go on our own."

"The Servant?"

"Yes. It was a woman dressed in black with the allure of a goddess but Saber noted that she's smelled like Morgan."

Vlad's eyes went wide when he heard those words. A Servant that smelled like Morgan le Fay and had the allure of a Goddess? Divine? Royal? If his memories served him right this meant that the Servant Amakusa Shirou had summoned was the Queen of Assyria.

"Semiramis."

Kairi gasped at his words, understandably so but Vlad was concerned with something else. His eyes fell on the Knight of Betrayal.

"Really now, all these Sabers and their damn [Instinct]," he remarked.

"How did you figure that out?" the Master inquired.

"A large number of grounds from Syria have been transported to the borders of Romania, and from what you just told me the only Heroic Spirit that could fit all of these facts is nobody else but her. It's unsettling though that Mordred compares her to her mother. The Witch of Betrayal has been known to use mischief and manipulation to her advantage."

His musings were interrupted though once he heard barking. He looked up to see the dog from earlier growl and bark at Berserker. Once he saw her fearful gaze his anger spiked, yet before he could do anything Saber barked back at the creature and asked what was wrong with the redhead. Vlad really needed to talk with the girl once they returned to their fortress. He turned back to the necromancer to continue their little discussion, though Mordred and Berserker joined it now.

During their talks, little pieces of information were exchanged, mainly between Kairi and Vlad since the other two were more engaged in their own argument.

Hold on.

What?

The two adult immediately turned to the girls witnessing how Saber argued with Berserker about...about something? The young redhead was mostly grunting with very little syllables while Saber only denied every grunt.

"Grrr."

"Nah, that's too bothersome and why would I even do that?"

"Gruu."

"Ey! That's not an explanation at all! You can't expect to say that and get away with it you runt!"

"Rrrr!"

"And that's supposed to impress me? Hah! I can do that too!"

"Uh?"

"…Are you messing with me? Let night come; I'll teach you!"

"…"

"Are those two seriously having a conversation?" Kairi exclaimed in irritation while Vlad massaged his forehead.

"Yes. Yes they are." he turned to the Master. "Is she really a Saber—are you sure you didn't accidentally summon a Berserker?" Both men couldn't help the sigh that escaped them as they continued to watch the girls bicker in grunts and shouts.

"Saber." Curiosity killed the cat, Vlad thought when he decided to inquire about what was happening in front of him. "What are you two talking about?"

The blonde turned to the men raising her eyebrows as if to say "Didn't you listen?" which spiked his anger but thankfully she answered, "We're talking about Riding beasts and taming them with our lighting."

 _You did not._ Both nearly said but didn't when they saw Berserker grunt and nod at Saber's explanation. Reluctantly the men shared a look.

"And how did you—?" the blonde rolled her eyes at their confused stares but replied before either of them could 'embarrass' themselves further.

"'Cause of the old man's horse. It didn't attack her or try to eat her and I told her that that's stupid. Horses don't eat meat and she doesn't even look that appetizing. And then this missy here said that I couldn't tame a horse for the life of me! Can you believe the nerve?!" Mordred rambled on, pointing her index finger right at Berserker.

The young red head only grunted though and the blonde stopped mid-rant to look at her to say, "What do you mean you speak from experience?"

"Grrru."

"Huh? Seriously? Again, you don't even look edible and you don't smell all that good either." Berserker's mismatched eyes stared right at Mordred's releasing an angry growl and feint sparks flew around her.

The Saber continued to stare at her with agitation.

"Saber," Kairi asked this time. "What did she say?" and once again the knight rolled her eyes at them.

"She got attacked by a dog when she was alive," was all she said and it made the adults tilt their heads in confusion.

"Did you at least punish that mutt?" Mordred asked the red head at which she grunted and nodded her head. The knight raised an eyebrow. "Really? And what did he say?" Berserker looked away slightly before she grunted once more and looked at the ground. Saber with wide eyes before groaning, "Seriously?! What a jerk!"

"Saber!" Both men nearly screamed and Vlad wondered whether this feeling of frustration was shared with his companion.

Mordred looked at them in irritation before she turned to Berserker and grunted at her. The Lord Impaler felt his eyes twitch when he saw them now communicating in grunts and his eyes immediately traveled to the necromancer. Before long the blonde turned to them again.

"When she killed the mutt, she brought its innards to her father." he held back a frown "But guess what—asshole decided that wasn't what he wanted and insulted her and then took her apart."

Scratch that, Vlad let that frown form and turned it into a scowl. Both because Berserker revealed too much of herself to an enemy and due to the circumstances of the girl's past.

"Frr-tthrr," the red head exhaled not looking up from her feet. To his and probably anybody's surprise, Mordred patted Berserker's head and ruffled her hair.

"Hey, at least you hunted him down and destroyed his entire life! Good job on that front—bet he lived the rest of his pathetic life in constant paranoia!" the blonde laughed and jabbed at the redhead's shoulder a little too eagerly since Berserker growled at her. "Whoops. Guess you're like glass huh? Looks like it'll be easy to beat your ass when we get down to it."

The adults sighed at her words, not even trying to make sense of the once again arguing girls. Vlad was thankful; however, that he now knew more of this girl that was forced into madness and where her anger stemmed from. He watched them bicker and let his mind play with the thought that these two might have become friends had they lived a normal life during the same era. Then again Mordred tended to piss off everyone at the same time so he perished the thought as quickly as it formed.

Time flew by, the night was nearing and both pairs were walking through the streets.

"Can we do this somewhere else? I don't want to fight where I endanger my subjects." Vlad raised an eyebrow at Saber's choice of words. Both anger and curiosity filling his mind.

"You think of my landsmen as your citizens? How presumptuous of you," he said chillingly at which the blonde shot him a snarly grin.

A smile played on his lips as well and he informed both his Master and the others at the castle to stay out of this. He knew that Chiron has positioned himself not far from them on a tower. In a way, his and Fiore's thinking were too simple. An Archer needs a high vantage point to get a clear shot at his prey; during his campaigns he sent a small group of soldiers into the shadows to kill the enemies' artillery before those arrows could kill him or his men. Then again Chiron was from the Age of Gods, a time where straightforward confrontations were praised while guerrilla tactics like his were frowned upon.

"Of course! Once I'm king I'm going to conquer all the lands so it's only natural to call them my subjects." he laughed at her words, not maliciously like those knaves did to him when he announced his kingship, sending his opponent a playful glare.

"So you intend to rival the King of Conquerors' desire for war and land. I wonder if you're even able to gather as many loyal servants as Iskandar once did." Vlad was no fool; he listened to Arthur's tale of the Fourth Grail War and her argument with Iskandar and his army of Servants that went up to the thousands.

"Ha! As king I can command as many as needed to, maybe even draft a couple more to fill in the ranks." he held back a smile as well as the growl building up in his throat.

"How unfortunate—before you and your wish reach materialization, you must eliminate me first." he challenged her with a glare realizing that Kairi was slowly disappearing into the shadows behind them.

"Yeah, it's too bad that your corpse is blocking my way."

The lights in the citadel turned on. The signal for the citizens not to leave their homes. A large smile formed, mimicking the blonde knight's while they walked side by side on this narrow road.

Sword and stake materialized to behead and impale the other. Saber leaned sideways, avoiding the stake aiming for her exposed midriff while Lancer arched backwards to avoid the swing of Clarent. Red lightning was already tickling his skin when it passed his face before he heard the blade cut through the air.

Both of them glared at the other while they created some distance between them. Vlad moved—rather inelegantly—back with the help of two stakes that stopped the sword from pursuing his neck. He lifted his left hand, causing the summoned stakes to branch off and chase after Saber.

She just slammed her sword against them.

Then Mordred shot forward while lifting her sword over her head since the road wasn't broad enough for any excessive actions, slashing the stakes that shot forth from the ground away with [Red Lighting]. He raised two more stakes to block the lighting before letting the pieces on the ground behind Saber extend towards her back.

Noticing the attack she charged her sword backwards, both propelling herself towards him, in a manner reminiscent of her father, and blasting the sneak attack away. The speed at which she closed the distance between them was enough to cause a strong gale to surge through the streets, lifting their clothes slightly. Vlad's eyes widened when Clarent arrived over his head barely centimeters in front of his face ready to split his head in two. But a large smile formed instead as two large spikes rose in a cross in front of him.

Of course, they wouldn't be enough to block the blade but they gave Vlad the opportunity he need to summon his personal spear into his right hand and block the blade from connecting with his head for real. The pavement beneath his feet gave up once the knights clashed and he had to rely on the strength of his legs to push Saber upwards. Once lifted of the ground he motioned for the ground where a Stake rose and rushed toward Saber.

The blonde, acting on [Instinct], placed her sword right in front of her where the tip of the stake clashed with the brunt of her sword shooting her across the street. She glided on the ground for a few feet before the friction of her boots stopped her for good.

Vlad raised his spear and swung the upper tip towards Saber, stopping just inches before her. The knight looked at him with a raised eyebrow before mimicking the action with her sword. The moment their weapons touched Saber shoved his spear aside to pierce Vlad's chest which he blocked with three stakes that he motioned towards her head.

Yet before they could skewer her head her helmet materialized blocking the stakes which burst into countless splinters. Although they didn't manage to damage her the force beneath their charge was enough to force Mordred backwards. Using this opportunity, more stakes surged forward but were blocked by Saber's gauntlet. The knight released a charge of red lighting, pushing Lancer away.

Once the air cleared, the silver and red armor of the Knight of Treachery stood before the Lord Impaler. Vlad too materialized his battle attire before Saber rushed at him.

He stepped backward, evading an armored fist aiming for his head and spun his spear to force the knight backwards and motion for more stakes to charge forward.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Kairi run up a staircase, before his attention was brought back to Saber. Once more she tried to pierce through his head with Clarent.

Thankfully, the passageway they were fighting at was rather narrow―limiting her to overhead slashes, [Prana Burst], and piercing attacks. Or Vlad had thought so before the tip of Clarent invaded his view. He threw up a couple of stakes stopping the blade inches from his face. Lancer clearly forgot that she wasn't beyond throwing her sword at opponents.

He watched in astonishment how her boots crushed the ground beneath them while electricity rose once they lifted, how she ran in full force along the walls just as her sword was stopped, cracking the stone and letting the wind rush around her before leaning backwards to throw her left fist towards his face.

Alas—said fist only met his right hand, catching the attack before it could reach its destination.

He felt the broken bones, the blood that broke from his skin and now latched onto the metal. But he stopped it. However, his burst of joy was interrupted once the knight kicked off the wall and pushed against him―retrieving her trapped blade.

Lancer let go of Mordred's hand, blood still dripping, and replaced the pain with stakes that rose from the ground underneath, getting him away from the knight. Since he never used this move before, he rolled around clumsily before finding his footing again.

Stakes rose from anywhere on the ground to block the blonde's advances and give him time to orientate again.

Behind him was a small bridge with two high walls leading up to the roofs. The moon shone through the opening between the buildings, illuminating them.

The shine of Kazikli Bey rose once again before Vlad took the spear with both hands and swung it in semi-diagonal circles around his body. A snarl rose while Mordred barked insults into his direction, calling him things like coward for keeping his distance and not being man enough for a direct attack.

Clarent burned a bright red, signaling that Saber was going to shoot towards him. Vlad would never admit it out loud but he always wanted to try it when he saw these Sabers do their [Prana Burst]. Hence, the decision he arrived at was surely going to make Chiron, Arthur, and Darnic infuriated.

The knight charged at him with speed that shattered the ground and burst the air within the alley into any direction. Red particles jumped off Clarent as Mordred roared towards him.

The smile formed while the stakes he planted beneath his feet rushed upwards and pushed him forward—reminiscent of both Sabers' [Prana Burst]. A curse was on the tip of his tongue when he nearly lost balance but the joy at succeeding overshadowed the shame he otherwise might have felt and he was ecstatic upon hearing all the gasps, be it telepathic or from his opponents, while rushing forward and interrupting Saber's charge with his spear.

The blond was so surprised by his imitation that she swung her sword down to meet his thrust in an attempt to defend. Vlad did wonder why he was suddenly over Saber―then he realized that he might have pushed himself too hard and regretted his childish recklessness once the blonde batted him upwards above the roofs.

In the moments he was airborne, a single thought entered his mind. A thought he had harbored since his earliest days, one he never let go of to this very day: God was watching him, guiding him and judging him from the heavens, the one place untouched by the malice on earth. Vlad found solace in this thought; it was what made him human or so he believed, because believing, to have faith, was human. He heard that word many times in his life, more when he looked into the sky and wondered whether he or anyone truly understood what it meant.

He shifted his sight to watch how Kairi had prepared his shotgun to assist his Servant before jumping aside when Berserker slammed her mace onto the roof he stood on.

He was glad that the girl was respecting his wishes upon hearing the clunky, "Do-n-in-er-fer."

He held back the light chuckle when he watched the necromancer's raised eyebrows before he realized that she told him not to interfere. She probably did the same to Caules at the base.

Barely moments later, he watched how Saber jumped up, using the walls between the buildings, pushing herself towards his direction in the air. It was his first aerial battle, and judging by the way Saber was screaming while flying towards him he could pretty much guess that Chiron would take his chance and aim at her.

Even if it was a single glance, even if it was completely off—he knew that his eyes met the Archer's. A single thought, a plea, was all he mouthed. Whether the sage was listing to him or not, this was his selfishness speaking and when he received a telepathic Prepare yourself to a scolding once we return to our base, which was accompanied with a light chuckle he knew that his desire was granted.

Kazikili Bey met Clarent Blood Arthur in the air for a single instance before the Lord Impaler let himself fall from the sky with his arms outstretched.

Mordred let out an exasperated gasp when he fell and he enjoyed the howl she released, following him down. A diabolic smile formed [on his lips] at the close proximity of Saber who roared while preparing to half him but he motioned for the ground where a large stake spiraled out off and rolled down along its side while its tip nearly impaled Saber of Red's head.

The knight slammed her sword against the stake roaring as more slashes followed when she realized that it were multiple stakes instead of one and watching Vlad calmly roll once before gliding along the pavement and stopping not far from her rage's manifestation. [Red Lightning] burned and scorched the stakes as they formed before she could reach the ground. Using her [Prana Burst] she charged at him once again until his laughter filled her ears.

An eerie unease filled her stomach while she watched his left hand lift and countless stakes form from the ground and walls rushing at her like a spiraling wave. Mordred gritted her teeth before releasing more [Red Lighting] from Clarent and hacked at the waves. Her field of vision had been filled with stakes for a moment until her sword destroyed them all and only the Lord Impaler remained, locked eyes with her.

And from the broken stakes flying through the air, new ones formed and shot forth impaling anything in a straight line.

For a moment, only silence remained in the alley as well as a veil of ash and dust. For a moment, she thought she had died. Saber let her helmet be removed by Lancer of Black, eyeing how the stakes that formed from the splinters she made had shot forth in a way around her limbs and torso, restricting her movement and stopping her from moving altogether. From the corner of her eyes she saw that pesky Berserker standing next to her Master on a roof. An insult almost left her mouth before she felt something on her head.

Her eyes shot back to Lancer who had one of his hands resting on her head. She didn't get it. What was the old man doing? Was he insulting her or—Mordred's musings were interrupted by soft words spoken without malice: "If—you truly manage to achieve your wish, then I want you to have a look at something." Then Lancer stopped whatever he was doing and stepping backwards.

"Yeah right, like I'd let you!" she roared, emitting [Red Lightning] from her sword, breaking the stakes holding her apart and Vlad truly wondered why fate was indeed strange or if God's ways were truly unfathomable.

He moved back while stakes rose from the ground he once stood on.

Saber swung her sword, only looking at her Master once before rushing towards Vlad with pure murder in her eyes.

He continued summoning from stakes that shot upwards without any true direction blocking the knight's way. Without thinking at all, she had cut through them before catapulting herself at him once again. Had she truly not learned a thing? No—she intended to finish him before he could summon more stakes. To his pleasure, most of the cut of stakes fell neatly in line, shooting forth once again at Saber who dodged them by jumping against a wall again and again. Without looking and solely relying on her [Instinct] she jumped back and forth while the stakes moved towards her like a snake—too late would she realize that the stakes could form a net around her.

Her feet landed on one of the stakes holding itself between two buildings while countless stakes formed and reformed around her, flying like hornets through the air ready to impale her in a minute's notice. Her breathing was heavy but it was probably a ploy to lure him into a false sense of security.

She knew that he knew, about her Noble Phantasm and its destructive potential. The only way for her to win would be to either trick him into showing his weakness and striking at it or to release the sword of Rebellion: but possibly killing countless civilians.

It was this code of honor by which the Knights of the Round Table were famed for, admired and sought after. He respected her wish to not involve his landsmen just as much as he respected her desire for rebellion. He showed her a single moment of his body standing beyond the stakes watching how her eyes turned sharp and the faked exhaustion dissolve while she burst towards him with [Red Lightning] following Clarent in its wake.

Vlad smiled as her form approached him in a swift and savage run and he smiled to himself when the look on her face resembled her father's last night. He watched with anticipation in how the knight lifted her sword ready to thrust its tip through his body. Lightning broke the darkness in tandem with tickling his skin as the blade neared his body and was stopped when stakes rose from all directions, not only blocking the knight's way but capturing her limbs between them. Her face was filled with hatred towards him and he muttered those words fully intending to destroy her spirit should she harbor any form of regret:

"Should you—" the knight's right arm shot forward after letting go of the sword, pinned by stakes, and slammed into his face.

He should have seen it coming. Regardless, Vlad grabbed the horns on her shoulder head-butt her back. He ignored the gasps from both his comrades as well as the necromancers at his brutish behavior and stepped back a bit from the knight.

"Should you continue to walk on this path once you become king, then take a good look at me."

The blonde, still perplexed by Vlad's actions, looked at him with both a bleeding nose as well as wide open eyes.

"Huh? Why the hell should I?!" He gave a level look that spoke more than any amount of words, making her shut up. He pointed his finger at her head, making her tense, even if he hadn't decided on summoning more stakes.

"Look at me, because I am what you will become." Those words held her in place and the shock and confusion on her face furthered his delight. "We are both children of men hailed as dragons. Remember that, child, and should you truly wish to challenge the sword in the stone—come to the fields before my castle." He gave her a smile reserved for those he would personally hunt and humiliate. Like Mehmed II who fled in desperation once he saw the thousands impaled and shown before his army. He had shown him this smile, knowing that it had instilled the greatest fear ever experienced within his heart and it did; the man fled, calling him a demon.

Not that the knight in front of him was such a fool. No, far from it. He saw what she refused to see now. And that will give him the edge should they meet once more.

After mulling it over, a swift warning from Chiron was all he needed to throw up stakes for both himself as well as Berserker on the roofs, motioning for the girl to come to his side at the same time.

Countless arrows flew through the sky hitting his makeshift barriers in full force. From his position, he could make out who the assailant was but it was most definitely the Red Faction's Archer.

He looked back to Mordred, seeing that the arrows had destroyed her "shackles" as well but there was no sign of the Knight of Treachery. It was safe to assume that Kairi ordered her to retreat, and the knight complied—surely mulling over his words and their meanings.

Though his attention was robbed when he saw the volley both Archers released at one another illuminating the night sky anew.

"Should we scout the new enemy, Berserker?" he asked the girl who landed beside him at that moment.

The redhead looked at him and nodded her head enthusiastically. He didn't hold back his chuckle when both of them began to stride towards their enemy.

:: Part A: Atalanta ::

Both she and Rider of Red were ordered to follow their Berserker once he had left for the Black Faction. While she didn't particularly care for the hulking mass of madness—she wasn't opposed to Achilles' praise for her. Considering that he was calling her "Sis" and hearing a form of respect, even from a man, was nice and reminded her of the times she cared for those children back in her times.

To suddenly hear that she was to help their Saber in the city came as a surprise but she didn't mind yet. She had informed Rider of her new objective before departing with him, and he had commented on this job being tedious but before she could chastise him, he smiled and told her to be careful since they were pretty close to the enemies' stronghold.

She had been curious about their Saber before. After all if they were to fight against each other after annihilating the Black Faction, one needed to know whom they were dealing with. Her animosity towards their Assassin and Caster however made her appreciate this Saber since her own Master leaned back and sat around somewhere in safety like all Magi do.

When she arrived in the city she was a little surprised to see their Saber fighting a Servant, whom they were informed of being this country's greatest hero. Not that it truly mattered but this Heroic Spirit received a fame boost here and judging from the way he fought with their Saber it was clear that he was toying with her. The look in his eyes, however…

Before he could finish off Saber, she had decided enough was enough and released a volley of arrows at their general direction. If Saber's Master wasn't as cowardly as hers, then he will help her get away from their enemy.

It startled her when stakes rose in front of Lancer and Berserker of Black, but before her shock could settle—she heard something approaching her. She jumped aside, dodging the arrow of the Black's Archer and readied her own bow to meet each of his shots with her own. From the directions the arrows stemmed from she knew that the other Archer was atop that tower in the far off corner of the city. She searched for his sight, if she knew who—her green eyes widened when she locked eyes with the other Archer's. His were wide as well but both of them couldn't step back from their positions.

She glanced aside seeing their little knight escaping together with her Master, the blonde looking into her direction—probably her [Instinct] at work. Atalanta decided to support their escape before meeting up with them. It was a three against two situation at the moment and she felt the presence of Lancer and Berserker of Black trotting towards her. She tried a few shots at them but her arrows were intercepted by the other Archer.

Changing tactics, she focused her attention towards her adversary in the distance. Finishing him off now would lighten Rider's burden and it would give their faction an advantage in the War.

They exchanged blow after blow, creating a stalemate lasting a couple seconds at most. Alas, she heard the ground beneath the house she stood on shaking, sighting Lancer of Black with Berserker in tow riding towards them on a black mare.

Stakes shot forth from the ground flying towards her direction. She spared a glance at their Saber seeing that they had left the area—she too saw it fit to disappear into the night for now. Before she did; however, she heard Lancer of Black's voice screaming into the night. She ignored his words and retreated for now. Whatever he meant by his statement she didn't care but Atalanta had a feeling those words weren't meant for her.

:: Part B: Berserker ::

She grunted in frustration when she saw the enemy leave the area.

"So they got away," Lancer said, patting her head while he made the horse turn around into the opposite direction. Her mismatched eyes turned to him and she wondered how he could smile like that. "It matters not for now, Berserker," he answered her unspoken question and she nodded, trusting his words and actions.

Her eyes looked at everything in fascination, the city, the moon, and the clouds and how Lancer's hair flew in the wind as they rose back to the castle. Time was something she didn't really grasp so she couldn't tell how long they needed to return home. It didn't matter, though, like Lancer said, that day was a very good day and she had fun.

On the way inside the castle, once Lancer helped her to the ground and gave the horse to one of the children, she saw Archer with the girl and Caules arrive in that car thing. She tilted her head when she saw Archer's smile. It was the same smile as always but for some reason Lancer seemed really uncomfortable.

"Maybe I should teach you Pankration, Vlad," Archer said with that same smile, cracking his knuckles while Lancer sighed and nodded in agreement.

She then looked at Caules who sighed in frustration and he told her over and over not to ignore his calls. She nodded and followed Lancer into the castle.

Then she saw Arthur and smiled.

:: Part C ::

Vlad was well aware that he owed everyone an explanation, especially to Saber and Chiron, but when he saw that Avicebron waited for him too, a small smile formed on his lips. Even Ruler and Irisviel were present, watching him with unreadable expressions. He could probably figure out what they were thinking but there were more pressing matters.

He shot Darnic a glance before saying, "I require a room with no surveillance and only the Servants—as well Irisviel and Ruler; they are allowed to join me. Anything else I will explain to you afterwards." He trusted his Master to see to it, and was disappointed when he saw the man pale a little before nodding. Perhaps Darnic remembered the threat from this morning.

He turned around to inform Saber of their plan only to meet the sight of her and Berserker having a conversation consisting of grunts and replies.

"Rirrr..."

"…I don't blame you Berserker, but you shouldn't have let Lancer do as he pleased."

"Frrr?"

"No it…it wasn't a bad thing and I can understand that. Please don't assume that I'm scolding you—that isn't the case. I, I just worry."

"Rrr-Hrr…Mrr."

"He…He was ,huh?"

"Roor-ry."

"Don't be. I'm just glad that both of you are safe. Good job on delivering the information."

"Saber," He said once he had the feeling that the two had ended their conversation.

The knight turned towards him with a raised eyebrow before looking at him in surprise as he started to massage his forehead. The other Servants were looking at her as well and the Lord Impaler was more than sure for the same reasons he held. That sense of Déjà vu.

"Please tell me: are you certain that you and your son don't have anything in common?"

At his accusation the King of Knights narrowed her eyes, although the pink hue forming on her cheeks lowered its effectiveness. And Berserker looked none the wiser.

After a short few minutes, and Irisviel laughing at everybody's expense, the Servants: Caster, Archer, Saber and Ruler joined him and the two Masters in a separate room away from the halls and prying ears and eyes. Once, Vlad explained his intentions all the Servants present looked at him as if he was out of his mind. That was to be expected.

"You…" Archer started.

"You can't be serious," Caster finished much to the surprise of the others.

"It isn't against the rules but I don't understand why you would even go and suggest something like that," Ruler said looking at the King of Knights who visibly paled and Irisviel who placed a hand on her Servant's. "Could you please explain, Lancer of Black?"

"It's simple. My friend desires an heir to succeed her ideals. Her child wishes to be judged by the sword," the lord of Romania reasoned while both sage and philosopher remained silent, each stroking their chin with the same amount of concentration in deep thinking.

"But to recreate Caliburn's ceremony," Irisviel muttered, voicing her Servant's thoughts. "Why?"

Vlad's smile was both promising as well as foreboding.

"We are in possession of the Holy Grail, and you Lady Irisviel. Avicebron has the wisdom and Chiron is from the Age of Gods and it isn't against the rules. At this very moment—we have the means to make at least an imitation of it and that is all that it needs to be. Once the child stands before Caliburn and wishes to challenge it with ideals befitting of my friend's wish — all your regrets will be amended and the child can have her, 'See I proved you wrong moment.' But should she fail or give up before even touching it, her spirit will be broken and she will become easier to manipulate for our cause." Throughout his speech, his words were kind like a wise king and as cruel as a tyrant.

However it turns out, the Black Faction had unanimously decided on a path that will ultimately lead toward an even more uncertain future. And whether it was the right decision or not, will be seen through by those who exist outside of existence.

Once the sword is lifted off the stone—there is no going back.

::: Part D End :::

"Wait, when you said three chaos factors did you mean?"

"Heh, as if the factors added to this reality would be the X factors. No, the chaos will come by those who were present before the change."

"I see, so neither the boy, the girl in the basement, or the thing in the water will be the factors of chaos."

"Nah, they are just variable and could we please stop talking about math—it gives me headaches alread—!"

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, you can't be serious…Chaldea…shit, do they think this is some sort of singularity they can resolve?"

"Wait, does this mean this reality can cause the downfall of humanity?!"

"Nah, the future is too uncertain for that but—"

"Then let me deal with them."

"You can't be serious. Do you even know what it will do if you interfere in the story?"

"I won't, and I'll only keep them away from the story. Don't worry about it; I'll be back in bit."

"Godspeed to you."

"Huh, you read too much DC Comics."

::: Tbc :::

_A/N: Yeah, uhm sorry for the delay of this chapter, but as you can see its 99 percent Vlad-centric and it has the longest fight scene I've written in a while as well so I hope I delivered on that part._

_Miguelgiuliano . Co - Once again my man I apologize for not speaking Spanish but thanks for leaving Reviews all the time XD And while I find your fascination for Arturia's "harem" interesting I haven't planned for this story to go into that direction. Hope you'll have fun with her interactions with the other characters though :)_

_darthwolf - Sorry to say this but little Sieg will only exist as his pre-Siegfried-sacrifice self aka without/with a different name and he won't have as many interactions with Jeanne. But don't worry, this chapter marks the change of pacing and the set up will ride alongside the action from now on XD_

_Andrea - I agree on the Proto-Saber being nothing more than eye-candy! Thanks for your ling words and I hope you'll enjoy the extra Fran that will become more and more important from this_ _moment forth XD Thx for the review!_

_Just a Fate fan - No problem, your thoughts are very welcome! I hope you like the direction I'm going with Vlad and I'm happy that I managed to explain Avicebron to you in some way XD About King Hassan, well in the Fate canon he's basically Gilgamesh levels but as mentioned many times his job is to watch the Grail and his true role will reveal itself soon enough, don't worry about him taking over the spotlight though I know what I do ;) Hope to see you in the next chapter as well XD_

_I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and once again shout outs for Emerian for being the beta that I needed but don't deserve!_

 

 


	5. Will Remain The Same

:: There are no Rules in War and Bloodshed ::

She knew that fact better than anyone else! Hell, she overthrew her father's rule defying his standards and aided the courts who were displeased with Britain's stagnant state. She stole—no, procured weapons from the vaults and chambers of Camelot and raised the banner of rebellion against this so-called utopia.

But to fail again! To fail to kill another king! Sure, she managed to kill her father but she didn't see his demise with her own eyes, and as Vlad eloquently put it, he died in a puddle of his own blood and choked to death hearing her father say…say what again?

"Argh!" she screamed once she and Kairi managed to get away. Her Master had a couple familiars scout the streets around them to make sure that Vlad or that Berserker weren't following them. But once they were out of the city and in the nearby forest, she let out one curse after the other. Her screams were quickly destroying the idle silence of the forest and she didn't care!

"Fuck! Fuck!" Mordred screamed while Kairi counted the fingers in his gun and watched the surrounding. "He was fucking toying with me!" she held back no curse and still felt the tightness of the stakes against her.

From the moment he appeared before them, everything went as Vlad had orchestrated. That damn Berserker mocked her and imitated her eating habits and even irritated her with her little sob story! So what if her father hated her like Mordred's did?! And that damn vampire reject! All the curses for him for leading her on! Every time she believed that he revealed a weakness she didn't suspect—it was because he'd intentionally left himself open and then he threw her aside like a damn ragdoll! It was so frigging humiliating every time he caught her off guard!

A mature, female voice Mordred didn't recognize said, "I would agree on that." It was coming not far from them but still hidden by the forest.

She spun around while Kairi hefted his gun and pointed it towards the newcomer stepping out of the shadows, masked in a familiar smell. One she couldn't remember. But the figure, after becoming clearer, was a woman clad in green garbs and carrying a bow. Her breathing hitched a little when she saw the woman's set of feline ears and tail.

"Lion," she muttered without thinking while Kairi shot her a glance. The newcomer smiled, showing that her extra ears weren't for show before lifting her hands as a show of nonaggression, after dispelling her bow.

"I'm the Archer Class Servant of the Red Faction. My Master commanded me to come to your aid earlier," the Archer said. Kairi didn't drop his gun. "I don't care if you believe me or not," she continued before turning around. "Though Lancer of Black left some words for you before I made my getaway."

"Why did you help us?" Mordred asked and bared her fangs. "I didn't ask for it!" There was no way she would let the lioness in front of her intimidate her. But the woman simply raised an eyebrow, looking into her eyes as if she was searching for something. It pissed her off. It made her so fucking mad that every Servant she encountered looked at her, in some stupid analytical way. And when she saw the lioness' eyes widen slightly she knew that the other woman recognized something.

"What?! Got something to say? Then say it!" she screamed, raising her blade while her Master stepped back slightly behind her. She knew that the necromancer wasn't going to let his guard down and she was grateful that he understood her at least to this degree. Not like that damn Lancer or this lioness!

Archer of Red didn't say anything; however, and for a good moment, it felt like she wouldn't do anything at all. Then the lioness turned back around and moved toward Mordred, with not an ounce of fear in her step, not even caring that the pair pointed their weapons at her. And the look in her eyes—she didn't understand it. She didn't get it. What was with that look?!

"Instead of baring your fangs at me, maybe you and your Master should treat those wounds," the lioness said, stepping past Clarent and taking Mordred's left hand.

The knight didn't get it: what wounds?

When her eyes fell on her arm she almost yelled…at her own stupidity, of course. There was a sizable chunk on her left arm missing which meant Vlad managed to wound her after all. She gritted her teeth but lowered her sword when the lioness leveled her with that look again.

"I had thought Lancer was mocking you when he threw that insult but it's clear as day that you're not even thinking when in battle," the Archer explained, agitating Mordred though she stopped herself from saying anything when given that look again. "It's good that you're energetic in a fight—but to recklessly throw around your weapon without thinking is another thing. And you are supposed to be our Saber?" She ripped a piece of cloth from her dress and started to wrap up Mordred's arm, hands moving softly and sensitively.

While the other Servant's tone was neutral, the knight still stung from the unwanted criticism and growled, yanking her arm away from this…this lioness! "What I do on the battlefield doesn't matter as long as I get to kill my opponent!" she yelled back as she noticed that Kairi sat on the ground, a good distance away. "And—"

Mordred felt something touch her on her head, confusion overwhelming her. Her eyes focused on the Archer as her hand retreated. The same expression was on Archer's face, the one Vlad had when he told her that. She averted her gaze and tried to put some distance between her and the other Servant.

"Why are you still sticking around, Archer?" Kairi asked from his position and she wondered whether he cared or not, but as always, those shades kept his eyes hidden.

"My Master didn't specify instructions. I'm here because I was curious about our Saber," the lioness said and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up from the way Archer said those last words. Okay, now she didn't understand what was going on. First Vlad, then that pesky Berserker with those annoying eyes and now this lioness! Why did they place so much interest in her? She didn't get it at all.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you then," she growled, knowing full well that she failed to meet someone's expectations again; though Archer's soft laughter stirred her emotions.

"You did well against this country's protector," the lioness said, "and to be honest—only our Lancer would be match in terms of raw power. The most I did earlier was to keep his attention away from both of you and even that didn't stop him in the slightest. It's good that both of you got away; the situation would have turned into a three on two any moment." That piqued her interest.

"Huh? Really now?" Mordred voiced, keeping her voice steady and emotionless. "Is there a reaso—" she didn't expect her Master to interrupt her.

"Say, Archer," the man began, getting up from his position. Is he trying to get the lioness to reveal information about herself? Mordred thought before his next words made her mind blank out. "How much contact did you have with your Master?"

The lioness raised her eyebrow. "I didn't have any so far. I assume it is one of your Magi practices. Keeping yourself hidden in safety until the war is over," she said disdainfully.

Archer eyed her Master as he appeared to be in thought before his eyes met Mordred's as if asking for permission. The knight felt a sigh leave her mouth before giving him the okay.

"If you're going to say something, just do it." She saw him smile but she didn't share his sentiments. In fact, the only thing weighting on her were the words Vlad left her and the Lion standing behind her.

Vlad said that the Red Faction was led by a Ruler Class Servant…it could mean that the Black Faction wanted to disrupt their unity, make them question the leadership and causing conflict within the faction or he simply said the truth. The latter was the one she tended to agree with and it infuriated her. She hated that her mind agreed with that vampire reject!

"Archer, was the Master in the Red Faction you had the most contact with Father Shirou Kotomine?" An easy question answered by the lioness' raised eyebrows and Mordred had to wonder how she moved those ears on her head so easily.

"Where are you going with that questioning?" the lioness asked. From the way she tilted her head and kept her eyes angled, it was clear that she knew something was up—suspicion, that was the word Mordred would describe the Archer, though she didn't know who it was directed at.

"Lancer of Black, Vlad III, said that a Ruler Class left over from the Third Holy Grail War was pulling the strings of the Red Faction. Playing everyone like a fiddle," the knight spat out, agreeing with Kairi who asked her telepathically if it was fine to tell the Archer. From the lightly surprised look on the lioness' face, she understood that the Archer had her own suspicions regarding their faction but what it meant, was the question.

"And you will believe an enemy Servant?" the lioness asked with a small grin. "Isn't that naive?"

"I would think the same had it not been for them figuring out who our Assassin was." There was a small flicker in those ever-green eyes and Mordred knew that the other Servant held the same information. "Semiramis, something or another. Is that true?" she had to make sure since she was praying that Vlad was wrong so she could spit on his face.

But with Archer's nod confirming their suspicions, all of Mordred's bloodlust was directed at the Lord Impaler.

"Kotomine revealed to us her Class as well as her True Name before he told us that he was going to be in charge of the Red Faction. Rider, Lancer and I had our suspicions regarding him but it seems the Black Faction came to a different conclusion," Archer replied, making both her and Kairi look at her in shock. It felt as if hours passed before the lioness' voice rung in her eyes once more. "It seems that we can't trust that priest after all."

"Yeah, we didn't either," the knight agreed. "That woman smelled too much like my mother. Good thing we didn't stick around huh?"

"Your mother?" the Archer was looking at her with that expression again.

"Morgen le Fay." It was easier to say her name and let the infamy speak for itself. She expected the look of realization on the Lion's face, not that expression of sorrow. As quickly as she saw it, within a blink of an eye it disappeared and the knight wasn't certain if the light had played tricks on her.

"So your real name is—" Archer started.

"Mordred Pendragon," Mordred said nonchalantly and she wasn't sure why the look on this woman's face agitated her so much.

"I see. My name is Atalanta," the Lioness announced holding out her hand. "If you don't mind coming along, both Rider and Lancer would also like to have a word with both of you." To take out that fake priest and his witch of a Servant, Mordred added in her mind and she felt the snarl form on her lips, taking Atalanta's while dematerializing her armour.

"Got it," she said though Atalanta's next words made her heart still in anticipation.

"Our Berserker is on his way towards the Black Faction's fortress on his own. Rider is tailing him and Lancer just contacted me that he would join him soon. Once you are healed up, join us on the assault on the Black Faction tomorrow." The Lioness said, stopping when the knight gave her a look.

"What did Lancer of Black say?" It occupied her mind and it wouldn't leave her be even if she wanted to ignore it. "You said he threw an insult at me so tell me and let me shove his words right up his butt when we meet again."

Seeing Atalanta's smile at her words made her sucky night less sucky and she returned it with a grin of her own, though it diminished when she heard the archer's words: "He said and I quote, 'Let's stop playing around next time you unruly brat,' before throwing one of his stakes at me."

Oh how she looked forward to shoving a stake right up his unmentionables!

:: Part Mordred End ::

Within the fortress of the Red Faction at the outskirts of Romania, Shirou Kotomine sat alongside his Servant Semiramis and watched the vegetation grow upside down. He had marveled ever since the Hanging Gardens started being constructed about how it was possible but dismissed that thought, finding solace that it was just another gift from the Lord.

"Assassin." He addressed her casually only when they were alone and even then he was careful not to be disrespectful. "What are your thoughts on them?"

She gave him that look again. It was an expression he saw in allies and enemies alike many times in his life, and even then, he was certain that it didn't matter as long as they strove towards the same goal.

"Them…" Her voice was somber, surely judging whether she should be honest or keep her true feelings hidden. He watched her from the corner of his eye, watching how she put a delicate finger to her lips and looked into the distance. "If I'm allowed to be frank; Lancer's questioning earlier has me concerned. He was not disrespectful but nor did he show his emotions which makes him the hardest to read. It is reassuring that he is still willing to side with us once we explained the situation but I wonder if Rider and Archer will do the same."

"Karna is an honest soul," Shirou answered, agreeing with her words. "He remains loyal to the bitter end which makes him a valuable asset to our cause. It is doubtful; however, if he truly believed our little lie though." He looked into the distance knowing full well what he had done and that there was no going back from this path. "I already sold my soul to our cause."

It was this certainty that he will never let go of, even if the evil dwelling beneath their feat attempted to break free any minute.

"Honestly speaking, I don't care if Lancer and his friends betrayed us. Berserker, thanks to Caster, will either be captured or killed in the near future so he doesn't matter as well." Semiramis said eyeing the ground with a glare. "I care more for that little monster we summoned though. It has already eaten another group of my beloved beasts and is beating at the tanks again." She moved her finger, magical circles forming around them before disappearing "At this rate it might even become too difficult to control for you, Master."

He agreed to that. He really did, but Shirou also knew that he didn't need to control it. It had already decided on its prey at the moment so leaving it alone was for the better.

The priest had looked up and had a faint smile upon seeing the approaching figure.

"Huh? So little Semiramy can worry about things like us mortals as well?" a grouchy, rough voice said, intruding upon the Queen and him. When Assassin looked at the man, her expression softened, and she covered her mouth in a proper manner befitting a Queen.

"You should be grateful that I have a soft spot for hardworking men," she said with humour in her voice.

The man laughed at her words and massaged the back of his neck. He was tall and built with muscles upon muscles; his sunburned skin darkening his already-dark complexion and Shirou couldn't help but share the enthusiasm in those auburn eyes. The newcomer wore a golden necklace sectioned into eight parts as well as brown and white tunics which covered most of his build.

"And women if your little skirmish with Archer was anything to go by?" he joked before his eyes turned to the pond. "Is it me or are your fish on the verge of extinction?" That earned him a soft scoff and a glare from the Queen, magical circles forming around her.

"Oh please, you can't expect me to have taken a liking to a woman like that," she said with an overly-sweet voice that both Shirou and the newcomer didn't believe for a second.

"Really? With the way you ran your finger along her chin?" the man said, hefting a tree from the ground not far from the pair.

"Not to mention your eyes constantly looking at her 'special' features," Shirou added, carefully sliding away from his Servant, though his smile never left.

"And the way you tried to bait her into attacking you," a new voice said in a stereotypical British accent. The priest had to actively stop his eyes from rolling though he couldn't stop his irritation. "Oh, Assyria's Queen—once again I have to admit how your beauty puts any other's to shame," the British man spoke, flailing his arms around while his cape fluttered with every move he made.

"And, as always, I tire from your boasting, Caster," the Queen said. Shirou noticed that her voice held less venom than usual while addressing the man. "Don't you have your novels to write instead of mocking yours truly?"

Caster blinked at her words before shrugging and smiling to himself. "You must be jesting! There is no such fool who would insult a dame of such beauty and grace like yours! Though I must admit that our Archer possibly cast a spell upon those lips; how else would she have managed to make you smile whilst an arrow was pointed at your lovely head?"

Shirou respectfully kept his distance from her while the ever-growing irritation of the Queen threatened to suffocate the other Servant with her chains. Her poisonous, magical chains.

"I would stop Shakespeare, while you're ahead," the dark-skinned man spoke, placing the tree he carried on his shoulder on the ground. Shirou eyed him out of curiosity.

"Oha? Has the newest member of our Faction decided to voice his concerns for my wellbeing?" the playwright inquired, letting his arm follow the movements of the other.

"Nah," the man spoke in his deep, gruff voice. "If you want to embarrass her then there are better stories, especially from her legend, but if you do, I bet I'll never find enough of you to even feed my little friends."

At those words Caster recoiled a little, holding on his chest like a girl. Shirou just smiled at their exchange before his eyes returned to Semiramis beside him who remained silent. She was planning something; that much he knew, but whether he liked where her thoughts were going or not, he really didn't want to think about.

"Hoho…I'm saddened that you ought to think I'd be foolish enough to even attempt such fallacy," Shakespeare reassured as the sweat on his forehead revealed his nervousness.

"Nah. Just warning you. Little Semi's put people through worse than what I just told you during her times." The man walked to another tree, hefting from the ground and placing it next to the first one. "Have you tamed our friend in the tanks yet?"

Caster shrugged before he visibly started to shake.

"Ah~to think I could create something beautiful once again!" the playwright spoke with so much enthusiasm while performing his theatrics that Shirou couldn't help the shiver running down his spine at the prospect of the playwright actually taming it. "Though I must admit that our dearest King of Knights was a delightful surprise as well."

Semiramis hummed while the glare in her eyes never let up and even increased in intensity before a playful smile formed on her lips. "Mayhaps we should allow you to show us your newest play, Caster."

Shakespeare looked at her, confused. Shirou was as well since the playwright had several new plays and novels written already.

"I beg your pardon?" It was in that moment a vision manifested in his mind. A future that was about to happen. When the Master looked up, the other Servants stared back, one with concern, and the others with curiosity and delight. He smiled at them.

"I agree," Shirou said and the playwright looked just as confused as before. "Shakespeare, what do you think about our Saber?" If what he saw was truly about to happen than they needed to act quick and unpredictably.

"That unruly child? Why, of course I am intrigued by their mystic and wild appearance. Why?" Caster inquired while stroking his goatee.

"Once they and their Master try to meet up with our Lancer and Archer, the enemy is going to launch an attack. We can't risk losing them yet," the priest explained—he already explained to the others that he was capable of receiving visions of the near future so there was no reason to hide what he had seen. "Can you and your 'friend' help them?"

The smile on Caster's lips widened ever so slightly. The gruff man in the background continued to plum tree after tree, whispering to himself how confusing everything is nowadays. He turned around when Shirou addressed him again, the priest's voice honest and clear despite him never telling who the man's Master was. "How long until you're finished?"

He released a sigh holding up two fingers. Shirou nodded at the answer, smiling despite the ever present feeling of dread looming over him.

:: Part Shirou End ::

When she first arrived in this era, the Grail failed to manifest a body for her. Despite her misgivings about the situation she was forced to inhibit the body of a young maiden. She wanted to give the child as much freedom as possible while still maintaining her role as the Ruler Class Servant in this Great Grail War. However, when she and the girl she possessed were presented with what she assumed to be the biggest and most delicious looking piece of cake, neither was sure who was in control at the moment.

"I'm sorry to make you wait Ruler," Saber of Black said, sitting on a chair not far from her. They were inside the barracks of the Einzbern clan, much to her surprise since she wasn't aware that they were participating in this war.

The room was spacious and filled with rich ornaments and expensive looking furniture.

Brought back to her senses—after the cake had disappeared—and wiping her mouth with a napkin, the maiden thought about her role in this war and what Saber of Black told her. The car ride was comfortable, especially since she didn't need to sit in a truck's trunk and her behind delighted upon the softness of the car's interior. Saber—King Arthur—told Jeanne that her Master would provide her information regarding the Red Faction who classified Jeanne as an enemy.

At that reminder, Lancer of Red's words rang in her ears. She wasn't naive. She just wanted answers.

"Please don't apologize, Saber. You already said that your Master must attend to the Greater Grail." This was just as concerning as the Red Faction's ambiguity. Had it not been for Gordes telling her that another Ruler, Amakusa Shirou, controlling the opposing Faction, she wouldn't even be here to listen to them. Then again, she might as well have come here to stop them from manipulating the Grail in the first place.

"I'm sorry!" came the voice before a white-haired woman with beautiful red eyes stumbled into the room. She was visibly out of breath and held her heaving chest. Jeanne immediately got up in fear that the woman might collapse but Saber beat her to it and held the lady's shoulder. Saber of Black helped, whom Jeanne assumed to be the knight's true Master, to the couches. "I'm sorry for my lateness, Ruler."

The Saint smiled and shook her head. "It is fine."

Once they were seated, Saber sat next to her Master, who introduced herself as Irisviel von Einzbern and told Jeanne about Shirou Amakusa Tokisada, a Ruler Class Servant summoned by the Einzberns during the Third Holy Grail War in Fuyuki instead of the Assassin Class. The tale of this Ruler was about his disappearance and allegiance to the Holy Church for the past sixty to seventy years. Jeanne listened intently about the Einzberns' investigation of the Greater Grail, hence why Irisviel appeared so drained.

"I assume conversing with the Grail is a very tasking matter," The Maiden of Orleans said once it appeared that the other party finished telling their story. She understood why the Einzberns tried to cheat during the last Grail War, and while it was a futile attempt, it resulted in more lives lost and more chaos than anyone wanted.

"Indeed. The Grail, while easy to access, is filled with thaumaturgy that we Einzberns had lost over the centuries." Irisviel's voice was somber while her eyes were glued to the cup of tea in her hands. "When I tried to talk with Justeaze inside, only broken fragments of her personality remained…"

Right—the blonde's eyes widened when she remembered that the Greater Grail had a core. The last bearer of the Third Magic, Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern. To be imprisoned within an ethereal form, the core of a semi-miracle must be a fate she never wished upon anyone. It saddened her that her own existence at the moment was due to the sacrifice of a woman who now didn't even know who or what she used to be. Her feelings must have appeared on her face since Irisviel quickly apologized and told her not to worry too much.

"About the second Ruler," she started, quickly changing the subject, "how are you so certain that he controls the Red Faction? Even if he remained in this world his role as Ruler is to be impartial and be without a wish. It is one of the requirements for a Ruler-Class Servant."

"The mediator of the Church, their representative in this Grail War, is none other than Shirou Kotomine." Irisviel explained and Jeanne couldn't help the shiver running down her spine. To think it would come to this. She released a shaky breath: if Tokisada was a Master on the Red Faction than that would explain why Lancer of Red appeared before her as an enemy. He didn't want her to interfere with his plans; that was the only conclusion she could arrive at and that had a terrifying implication.

A Ruler with a wish.

:: Part Jeanne End ::

"Say Roche, what do you think of humans?" It wasn't like him to ask a question like this. Especially not to a child like Roche, yet he couldn't help the thoughts that plagued him ever since his conversations with Grand Assassin and Lancer. The words they chose and the actions they took, especially the latter who rushed into a senseless battle with Saber of Red and demonstrating just why he had the justification of being the Black Faction's de facto leader. Avicebron had to lie if he said he didn't suppress a chuckle when he saw the Lancer's interaction with Darnic before his leave.

It were these lingering emotions that reminded him of his own humanity and why he found it difficult to understand just what everyone saw in that little abomination called Frankenstein. Roche, who was building an updated version of his Golemcraft was presenting him the newest model with an expression of glee, though the philosopher had to wonder why the child's designs were so…inhuman.

"Hm?" The boy, of course, was confused by his question before pondering it. "Humans are a drag, I'd say. They always expect something when they talk with you and they always bother you when I want to work on my Golems. Golems are easier to get along with and they don't talk back to you." A lack of communication and only living to perfect their craft. That struck a nerve in him somewhere, so he gave the boy a light flick to the forehead. The boy yelped and watched him with an incredulous expression.

It was that moment that a certain Berserker appeared to hide herself behind the large door leading to the philosopher's workshop. Really now, not even an hour passed since Lancer and her rushed into the city to engage their enemies. He held back a sigh; maybe he could use this situation as a form of lesson for both these children.

"Berserker, do you need something?"

The mad Servant shook her head before looking up and walking into the room. She held out her hand to him. Avicebron watched her actions—and he didn't look up at her; she was taller than him—watching how she attempted to rip her own arm off. Alarmed by her actions, Roche stepped backward but Solomon knew what she was pulling here. This time, he did sigh.

"You don't have to show me, I already understand," he said before motioning for her to lie down on a table nearby "You want me to examine you correct?" he wasn't going to question why she didn't go to Chiron; it was probably due to him being used to nonhuman beings. "Undress yourself," he said and watched as the girl complied and Roche started to blush and look away. The mask hid his eyes as they opened a little, finally seeing something humane about his Master that didn't translate to enthusiasm. How refreshing.

"Roche, do you know what I think about humans?" he asked the boy while he started to examine Berserker's joints—the girl still wore clothing around her intimates, so she did possess modesty to a degree—and noticed the flow of prana around the girl's headwear. "May I?" he asked, pointing to her head and she nodded.

"Isn't Sensei like me? Don't you think humans are bothersome?" the boy asked with that innocent tone that made Avicebron's blood freeze. Did he really come across like that?

He took note of the particular flow that appeared like electricity and was absorbed into the girl's body. Viktor Frankenstein may not have been a wise Magi; his craft and the pure desire to bring forth a human from the dead however was commendable.

He carefully studied the intricate design and the material used to build her. To call her a mockery of life wouldn't even cut it. The girl's head, her limbs and her innards were more artificial than living tissue. And yet she possessed a personality.

"That isn't quite true, Master," he said, motioning for his golems to bring some instruments. "It isn't that I hate humans per se but that I despise their innate nature: the acts of cruelty and evil." It was true, to a degree, and he never stopped harboring his dislike for the vile actions of man, and even truer to say that not all humans fell into that category. Now that he thought about it—had he gone through with creating Adam as intended, he would have created a human in his personal vision.

Hubris. To think Vlad and Grand Assassin would teach him something.

"What are you doing, Sensei?" Roche's words woke him from his musing. He looked at the Berserker that he took apart, quite literally, without killing her—the girl repaired herself from graver incidents, and he only took the artificially attached parts off—to take note of the craft used to create her. Should Saber—or worse, Vlad—ever find out about this, he was certain that the Once and Future King would behead him on the spot.

"I am examining the structure of Viktor Frankenstein's craft and the way he assembled her parts as well as study the machinations of her mana manipulation." He put a hand under his chin—thoughts coming to his mind, from the distant past. "Have you ever thought about what humans are?"

Roche looked at him in confusion. "They're made of flesh and—" Truly, I need to teach this child a thing or two, he thought while flicking the boy's forehead.

"If you follow religious beliefs, then humans would be the first golems." The delight he felt when he saw the children's faces was a surprise. And this pose: to put his index finger up in front of his face plate. It felt so natural. As if he was about to give a lecture and it delighted him to no end for some reason.

"No way!" the boy exclaimed while Berserker, behind Avicebron, grunted in acknowledgment.

"In some religions, Adam, or generally the first human, was formed from dirt by god after His image and called it 'man'. When I was younger, it was one of my inspirations as to why I started to create golems; as an offering to God and to create beings that wouldn't commit acts out of impure reasons. Golem Keter Malkuth was my wish for Adam to be reborn into this world and show us a new future." Now, it was nothing more than another weapon used to kill an enemy and be forced to submit to the whims of the Black Faction.

"A—...da...m," the girl spoke, interrupting his thoughts, and he looked at her. Without the bangs in the way, he saw her mismatched eyes filled with a desire. A dream—he had heard about her wish, the wish to receive a mate of her own. An Adam to her Eve. Had Viktor Frankenstein intended to make her bear his children? Had he thought himself above reason? Or did he believe that he could truly bring somebody back from the dead? What truly mattered though was reassembling her. She did it once on her own from what he had heard, so doing it again should be easy.

"Humans are golems…?" Roche appeared to have stopped thinking the moment he mentioned that religious belief, which was fortunate as he unintentionally divulged Golem Keter Malkuth's true purpose. What confused him, though, was the trust that these children placed in him when they listened to his tale.

"Berserker, if your Master hasn't informed you than I will; your body is currently not able to handle the full power of your Noble Phantasm. If he told you to hold yourself back then I would advise you to follow his command. Concerning your ability to speak, it seems you are capable of that but your Class obstructs said ability," he said after the girl was reassembled. She simply nodded at him before redressing and leaving his workshop. "What a strange creature," Avicebron muttered while he started on Vlad's project.

"Say, Sensei?" Roche asked him after a while of watching him. He turned around to meet the child's curious gaze before his hidden eyes opened wide. "If Humans are golems made by this God to look like him, then what is Berserker?"

He knew the answer: a mockery of life. Yet, if he followed that train of thought then wouldn't homunculi, also created by humans, count as well—since he called Berserker a mockery. And yet these mockeries exhibited more kindness than the "true" humans he despised so much.

Avicebron recalled a strange incident in which he was so deep in his musings that Berserker managed to sneak up to him. Had it not been for his mask, both children might have seen his shock. She handed him a flower, a white hydrangea—meaning gratitude and sincerity—before once again nodding and leaving.

Truly, what a strange creature. He knew what he needed to do. Though whether this was the conclusion that was sought by the others was a matter for a different time. What he needed to do now was to find that homunculus the Einzbern promised him and finish what he started. All of it.

:: Part Avicebron End ::

He was standing in the center of the throne room. The tunics clinging to his skin felt damp from his sweat and the pulsing of his Magic Circuits. Had it not been for the minuscule piece of the Grail attached to his heart he wouldn't be able to stand before the leaders of the Black Faction.

Vlad Tepes III, Lancer of Black, and the stone cold ruler of this domain yet bearing a gaze that spoke of more. He ordered for him to be summoned.

Astolfo, Rider of Black, stood beside him nonchalantly while his—her? —Master stood beside them. He didn't like her. She smelled like his brothers and sisters that died due to overloading and the gaze she reserved for him solely turned his stomach upside down.

"Are we certain that the Red Faction is launching another assault?" Arthur Pendragon, Saber of Black, with her Master Irisviel, debated with Vlad whether the newly arrived information was legit or a false alarm. She carried herself with purpose and took time out of her schedule to teach him the ways of the sword—to a certain degree, of course.

Ruler was standing beside Irisviel though she appeared a little conflicted about something. His eyes turned to Irisviel who noticed his staring and smiled at him. The warmth of her being was so different. So…humane…

"It appears that the Red Faction's Berserker has ventured into our territory," Darnic started. He was the leader of the Yggdmillennia Clan as well as the reason why all the Servants were standing united on two different fronts. "It is safe to assume that the Red Faction has sent one or two sentinels to observe his actions, and by extension, our actions."

"Child." Vlad addressed him, much to the surprise of the Servants as all of them interchanged looks between him and the Lancer. "Have you chosen a name of your own?" It was the question he waited for ever since Irisviel had taken him out of the incubator pod. The question he sought after ever since the piece of the Grail bonded with his body and gave him a possibility. He wanted to answer this ruler's inquiry. To finally announce his freedom.

"Sigurd Fáfnisbani." The slayer of Fafnir. He knew what heresy this name was. He knew how they would think of his choice. He didn't care. "You may address me as Sieg, if you want, Lancer." He had to show that he was his own person. His own being. To be free of the hold whatever Magi might have had of him and seeing the flabbergasted expressions of his creators as well as the unexpected approval of most of the Servant's felt more liberating and good than the homunculus ever anticipated.

"So you wish to carry the name of Scandinavia's version of Siegfried?" the Lord Impaler spoke, not in mockery but with a tone the child couldn't discern. He bit his lip before feeling Rider's hand clasped his'. He looked at the Servant who stood by his side ever since his training began and gave him the blade now resting at his waist.

"It isn't an imitation. Nor is it a form of flattery. When the Grail bonded with me there were two choices waiting for me. Two souls that spoke to me at the same time," he elaborated, placing his hand on his chest. Saber, Archer and Rider knew of this already, since Irisviel told them once she realized it herself. "Both of them slayed the same dragon, yet neither had a say in the matter. Siegfried carried the wishes of others and was always denied his own selfishness. Sigurd was the oath keeper and betrayed by his own wife."

Siegfried, the hero of the Nibelung, the slayer of Fafnir and nigh-undefeatable, who fulfilled the wishes of the people and upheld them until his dying breath. Sigurd, the hero who slayed the dragon Fafnir, the avenger of his Father Sigmund and oathbreaker due to the fate foretold to him by the clairvoyant King Gripir.

How or why it happened was unknown. Irisviel speculated that Sieg had been, in another life or in another reality, come into contact with an incarnation of either of these Heroic Spirits. It wasn't the dragon he saw, though. It was two men standing in front of two swords bathed in the blood of their fallen foe. One burned like the sun while the other shone in brilliant light. Both of them were so similar yet so different at the same time. Both looked at him and asked him a question: "What is your wish?"

"I want to live life at my own choosing. Sigurd gave me his blessing, made me swear upon my wish and purpose, and Siegfried gave me the body which stands before you." Though his build was nothing like either hero. He was lean and barely covered in greenish armor though the glowing line reaching from his chest to his face was a sign that Siegfried indeed gave him something.

"So you choose to become a Demi-Servant?" a homunculus or human who let themselves be possessed by a Heroic Spirit. A miracle in and of itself. He nodded at the Lord Impaler's question who began to smile slightly. "I take you are prepared to fight for both your freedom and life." It wasn't a question.

Saber and Rider immediately looked at Lancer of Black.

"Vlad, you can't be—" Saber started though she stopped once the other monarch lifted his hand.

"Let me ask you something, Arthur. Has either of our Maiden Battles been kind to us?" Those words made the fellow King not answer. She appeared to tighten her fist. "Besides, Rider will accompany him to ensure that he remains safe. Should Berserker of Red be stronger than either of us anticipated than we can at least prepare ourselves against it."

This was a king who had sent countless to their deaths and yet managed to claim victory after victory, showing his enemies both the brutality as well as ingenuity this demon possessed. Sieg was not certain—if it had not been any other Monarch on that throne, then Saber nor would Rider had remained as calm and collected as they were now.

"Rider, you are hereby to escort Sieg and Angelica Ainsworth towards the enemy and gauge their strength. If possible, either capture or eliminate them and if they appear too strong, then escape," was all the monarch said though some eyes traveled to the Ainsworth lady sitting with her brother at the far end of the hall. The moment her name was mentioned, the Masters and Servants seemed to release a collected sigh of relief; why he wasn't sure but it appeared that his chances of survival had been uplifted thanks to her.

He ignored Celenike's aggressive stare and led Rider towards the stoic woman. Angelica was a long-haired woman who showed as little emotions as the homunculi that Gordes incubated. Maybe hers were suppressed as well? Sieg really didn't care.

The Ainsworth stood up from her chair and held out her hand.

"Angelica Ainsworth," she said and he took her hand and reintroduced himself. "Would you prefer on foot or do you want to engage the enemy directly?"

Sieg looked at her, than at Astolfo who was all smiles as usual. He turned to Saber who held something akin to concern, something that he also saw on Ruler's face. Irisviel, on the other hand, held her ever-present smile, encouraging. He tried to smile back, but only managed to make a grimace that caused Rider and Irisviel to giggle, before addressing Angelica: "There is no meaning in waiting any longer. The enemy won't wait and I won't get any stronger when we reach them."

The woman nodded.

Then the space behind her distorted, showing a square-like pattern rippling through the air. From where he stood, he saw a dark forest and without hesitation, he stepped through the portal alongside Rider and Angelica.

:: Part: Siegfried- End ::

Once the trio left Saber turned to Vlad, though before addressing him Ruler stepped in.

"Was it truly wise to send the boy to deal with a Servant?" The anger was barely concealed in the Maiden's voice and the knight had to agree with those concerns as well.

Vlad simply huffed at her.

"Hassan," he said, making Saber and Chiron step back. Much to the surprise of Ruler, the towering presence of Grand Assassin appeared in the midst of their group. A small shriek escaped the Maiden's mouth before Arthur watched her eyes grow large in shock. "How many Servants are where we suspect their fortress? And can you infiltrate the Red Faction's base?"

 **"The Servants Rider, Archer and Lancer of Red have left the Hanging Gardens. I will confirm** **the second Ruler-Class and identify who the Caster-Class is,"** was all the skull masked Servant muttered before dispersing into blue flames.

The Once and Future King looked in astonishment at her fellow king. Had the Lord of Wallachia truly thought so far ahead?

Vlad was smiling to himself while standing up from his throne. "I believe it is time that we finish our little project." He walked past Darnic who appeared both confused and taken aback.

Saber wasn't surprised that Ruler was still in shock at seen the Grand Assassin and the words the Maid of Orléans directed towards Julian held a strange tone to them. "How-how did you summon a Grand Servant?"

The boy didn't say anything and motioned for her to follow him.

:: Part Interlude End ::

Not once had he doubted the lord. Not once had he wished upon the world the greatest terror or catastrophe. Yet the path he walked in this life had been marred by the horrors of war and demise.

It hadn't been more than fifty years since the Third Grail War ended and the Church had accepted him as a member of its system long ago. He suspected that many already knew that he was a Servant but no one spoke up about it. For that he was thankful.

He was alone in this church. It had been left alone for years probably due to safety reasons, though it still held a soft spot in his heart since it was here he received his first blessing in this new life.

Shirou Kotomine had already acquired Catalysts for the War to come, keeping some of them in this very place. Though he couldn't help but feel an unspeakable pressure on his heart once he arrived in this place. Was it the humidity or the stunk? No, this church despite being left behind, had been in his personal care for years now.

"And who might you be?" He said turning around feeling another worldly presence close by. The only thing he saw however was a figure in white with a black dot where the face should be. The blackness seemed to bubble and Shirou Amakusa Tokisada's life was to change forever.

:: Past 1 End ::

The moment the three of them dropped from the sky Sieg became absolutely certain that this was the first step to gain his freedom. When they landed Rider, as well as Angelica, hid themselves in the shadows, though the homunculus was certain that Astolfo would jump out the moment Sieg was truly in danger. It was just the way he was.

The forest was silent save for the large, stomping noises vibrating through the air. He held back a sigh before he readied his blade at his sight. Berserker-Class Servants usually appeared mad or not of the right mindset and simply attacked anything in sight. He had to prepare himself and therefore let prana flow through his Magical Circuits, reinforcing his body to the best of his ability. He grabbed the hilt of his sword and unsheathed the blade. Placing his pivotal foot forward, Sieg lifted his sword overhead.

Sieg stood like this for what felt like hours.

That wasn't true. His mind was racing through the numerous possibilities of this clash. He knew that he wasn't stronger than a Servant. The best he could do while sparring with Saber was to shove the King's sword aside once while she charged at him. He never managed to replicate that feat and never wanted to. Sieg knew his limits. He knew of his short lifespan and what repercussions awaited should he not manage to repay them.

It was maddening. The silence. And yet he felt the tremors as it stomped toward him. The homunculus had to actively try to breathe evenly—taking deep inhales while exhaling calmly. He stilled his heart, from the anticipation and steeled it for the inevitable. His hands shook lightly so the boy steadied his stance and bit his lip softly.

Birds flew with each step the hulking figure took. With each step it took, Sieg became more and more aware just how large his adversary was. It was a gray-skinned man with leather tied around his face and parts of his torso and something akin to a skirt around its waist. Male with muscles over muscles and carrying a sword in its right hand. The beast was smiling while it approached him.

He released an unsteady breath, shifting his arms to place his sword diagonally in front of him. Sieg knew if he was just a second too late then this behemoth would level him to the ground or swat him aside like a fly.

His blood froze; however, when the beast talked.

"You are an oppressed," the Berserker said.

Sieg gritted his teeth. "No, I'm fighting for my freedom." Yet he felt unsettled by the Servant in front of him. It continued to smile at him, releasing a soft laugh before moving past him.

It was such an unexpected action that out of instinct he lashed out at the Berserker and cut his back with his sword. It ignored him and trotted on as if it didn't notice the homunculus' attack and even ignored the gash that appeared on his back. Though it disappeared nearly instantly.

Never had he thought that he would feel frustrated that his opponent was ignoring him and he felt ashamed for the feeling of relief that washed over his body, before it froze. Berserker of Red didn't attack him because he didn't see Sieg as an opponent or even an obstacle. The mad Servant only saw him as someone that was oppressed and in a certain way that was true.

Alas, he would never be able to live with himself if he broke his word to those who showed care towards him. He swore upon the Black Faction. Thus Sigurd gave him his blessing.

Sigurd, during his quest for revenge for his father that he swore upon, was handed to a blacksmith who let him make a sword of the remains of his father's blade. Said sword remained unnamed throughout the ages yet was documented to be known as Odin's sword. While forging the blade released flames of otherworldly nature, the blade didn't shatter upon his hammer's hits like so many others did. Thus any sword he wielded became the Odin's Sword.

"Aaaaaaah!" Energy charged around his blade with flames bursting through. while it was a pale imitation of both Sabers' [Prana Burst] he still charged and shot towards the mad Servant that only now seemed to recognized him as an opponent.

The Servant jumped over him while he shot forward—kicking him into the ground before following up with both feet ready to crush his skull. As disoriented as he was, he still released a burst from his sword to glide along the ground, barely evading the head stomp. The armour he wore shielded him enough that he could still feel his body and quickly rolled around onto his feet.

Berserker of Red, who clearly recognized Sieg as a hostile now, began to run towards him, ignoring the trees and simply running through them, partially uprooting them or breaking them completely. Same with its sword that cared more for maiming the boy's head off. In the back of his mind, he knew that Berserker of Red wanted to give him a quick, painless end. He vehemently refused this notion and dodged each swing.

He fell back on Saber's wisdom. When faced with a taller adversary, you needed to attack by going below them, either striking their inner thighs or delivering a quick slash to their eyes to disorient them before attempting to slash their vitals.

Sieg continued to doge each strike, knowing full well had he worn anything but his enhanced armor and not hardened his body the splinters alone might have put him to an end. He dodged and dodged until he saw a gap between the trees that Berserker of Red ran over.

Chiron's advice reverberated in his mind. Use the terrain to your advantage, keep the enemy in your line of sight but try to leave theirs and attack when they least expect it. He dove between the hulking Servant's legs slashing at the thighs before rolling and running between the tree stumps.

He jumped out of instinct and leaped at the nearest tree. He kicked himself of the tree slashing at Berserker's neck which was quickly stopped by the mad Servant's blade. He used the remaining momentum to leap over the hulking figure, screaming from the top of his lungs while catapulting himself against yet another tree.

Not letting the Servant have a single moment, Sieg rushed forward with another [Prana Burst], this time channeling the mysteries of Sigurd's soul—fanning the flames which burst into a radiant orange.

The pain he experienced while channeling was so excruciating that he nearly fainted when the blades clashed once again. His chest burned and the glowing scar from his chest to his face burned and pulsated so heavily that tears streamed from his eyelids. He couldn't stop. The first oath didn't allow him to even if he wanted to. Sigurd was the oathkeeper. Any oath he made forced him to commit to it; otherwise, he would become frail and die in disgrace.

Without thinking, the homunculus released a barrage of slashes while zooming past the mad Servant, leaping around trees while slashing at the hulking figure's joints and neck before a giant hand grabbed his torso and threw him into a small hill.

The ground shattered upon his impact and the boy nearly threw up while Siegfried's crest threatened to burn his heart.

Siegfried bathed in his he dragon's Fafnir's blood, giving him a body that was nigh-indestructible. Any damage done to him would heal and any wound would strengthen his blood armor. But the price for such protection was high for a child like him.

Though the dragon slayers within him called out to him to take up his sword again.

Sieg wanted to scream, wanted to flee, but once an opponent was in front of him the slayers forced him to uphold his second oath. To protect those who cherished him. If he fled and let this beast arrive at the castle of the Black Faction, if it managed to get past the other Servants then it would deliver a fatal blow to those who helped him.

His back burned from the impact while the second oath went into effect. His body was forced upward, stretching muscles that never experienced such harsh combat and pumped prana through his veins to strengthen his body's physical endurance. His hand instinctively grabbed the sword that laid on the ground thrusting just as Berserker leaped at him once again and releasing another [Prana Burst] right into the mad Servant's chest.

It didn't stop. Blade met blade once again and Sieg was pushed backward. He nearly screamed while the pain of his legs that were shoved into the ground by the force ramming into his spine and chest. The third oath would not let his body die without fighting—he swore to survive to the end of this forsaken war.

The child screamed from the top of his lungs pushing against the hulking beast while releasing another [Prana Burst] while defending, sending the Servant off away from him. He refused to breath and yield to the pain of his body and pushed forward, letting him charge at his opponent like a speeding bullet while his guard was off.

A single moment could decide a fight. That was something Rider always told him while they sparred. He wanted to grasp that moment; he shoved his blade into the hulking Berserker's chest and released another [Prana Burst]. Sieg's hopes of defeating him were dashed the moment the Servant's hand grabbed his head and threw him against a thick tree.

A large explosion erupted where the mad Servant stood, a single lance piercing the ground where Sieg might have been.

Berserker of Red stood in front of the lance, still smiling while Sieg's blade was still stuck in his chest, before the lance's owner decided to land in front of the hulking Servant.

The owner was a green-haired man with a scarf and Greek-like stylized armor, whistling at Sieg's still-battered and slowly-regenerating appearance. He was clearly a Servant and had Sieg not known about how Lancer of Red looked, he might have suspected this one to be him, which meant the new Servant in front of him was Rider of Red.

"Thanks for throwing him aside, Berserker. I doubt that you'd get it, but the other Servant around here was about to attack you."

The homunculus watched how Rider of Red berated Berserker of Red, still feeling each nerve in his body screaming for release as the oaths forced him to stand up. Five oaths: that was how many his body could tolerate. Sigurd could have managed dozens more but Sieg could only hold onto five before his very existence would disappear. He already took three oaths before Irisviel lectured him of the consequences.

Rider of Red lifted his lance before shooting towards him.

He wanted to evade.

He wanted to move.

But his body wouldn't move due to the accumulated damage and even if Siegfried's body repaired the damage, his Magic Circuits were still overloaded and prevented cooperation. Had it not been for Rider—Astolfo, dropping from the sky to impale Rider of Red, then he would've nearly been pierced through his chest.

The Red's Rider kicked into the ground while Astolfo's lance penetrated the ground. Both Riders swirled around their lances to disperse the dust and debris that flew from their exchange.

"So you finally showed yourself. Let me guess, Rider of Black?" the Red's Rider asked, smiling while readying his stance to charge at them again.

"Ah~so you tricked me into coming out! Well, what can I say; I'm Astolfo, one of Charlemagne's twelve paladins' and the Rider on the Black Faction!" Astolfo announced, twirling around while posing with his lance.

Sieg wasn't sure why he revealed his own name again but from the look on Rider of Red's face their opponent was just as stunned before smiling and charging at his fellow Rider.

Both lances collided and Rider of Red proved that he was easily stronger than Astolfo and shoved him into Sieg, making both of them crash into the ground. Sieg, who felt Sigurd's voice reverberating through his veins; quickly rolled backward and he pushed Astolfo up and got onto his feet, sliding back still.

Rider of Black used his extra airtime to spin around and kick off the nearest tree to charge at Rider of Red, quickly followed by Sieg who still needed to retrieve his sword from Berserker of Red.

Rider of Red spun his weapon around one more before sliding into a stance again and jumping to meet Astolfo mid-air. Sieg used this as an opportunity to jump with a mock [Prana Burst] emitting from his feet to grab Rider of Red's leg, disrupting his concentration.

Rider of Black smashed his lance against Rider of Red's. Sieg, knowing that the kinetic force of the enemy Rider's jump was too much for him to hold onto—but thanks to Astolfo, he spun around and used the Red Rider's back as a platform to launch himself at Berserker of Red who still hadn't moved from his earlier attack.

Immediately the homunculus attempted to grab the sword and pushed with his legs against the unmoving Servant. However, the moment the sword left its chest, the mad Servant laughed and swung at Sieg's waist. The boy blocked the attack at the cost of being sent flying into the direction of Rider of Black who had been swatted aside by the Red's Rider again.

"What's wrong?! What's wrong?! Is that all you can do?"

Sieg didn't listen and instead focused on Berserker of Black's charging, sword swinging and cutting through trees as if they were paper. Using the moment between each swing Sieg spun around and slashed at the enemy's sides.

His Prana was running in overdrive again causing his fingers to clamp and his teeth to grit together. He felt each joint scream in agony each time his blade connected with the Servant and cried his eyes out every time he evaded the blade snapping at his limbs.

Astolfo evaded each of Rider of Red's thrusts and used the falling trees as a form of shield to hide behind. The Servant used his nimble legs to evade the enemy's attacks while also sparing glances at Sieg.

The homunculus knew that Astolfo hadn't called upon his Hippogriff due to the terrain and judging from the clashes the pink-haired boy had with the green haired man it was safe to assume that Rider of Red was stronger than him.

Without hesitation Sieg ducked beneath Berserker of Red and ran towards Rider of Red with his sword drawn next to his head, ready to thrust. Sieg understood that he would not be able to damage the other Servant though that wasn't his plan. The boy quickly dug in his heels while spinning on the ground in a sweeping kick motion. Too late Rider of Red realized that Berserker had picked up on of the cut off trees and threw it at Sieg.

"Tsk" The enemy Rider cut through the tree with blinding speed before spinning his lance around to guard his neck as Astolfo used the opportunity to attack him again. Rider of Red then jumped while pushing Astolfo away again as Sieg attempted to attack his legs from underneath. The man kicked downward, breaking the ground beneath his feet while creating distance between the pair.

During that moment Berserker of Red charged forward again laughing while slashing at anything that was in the way. Including Rider of Red who only now noticed his Faction-mate's stampede. Lance met sword mid-air pushing the green-haired man into the forest's depths.

Astolfo quickly excused himself from Sieg's side while rushing after his fellow Rider so quickly that Sieg wasn't sure if he could still see him in the distance.

Although the kicked-up dust made it easier for him to hide.

Then Siegfried's heart yelled into his chest and the boy gasped in pain before keeling over and somehow evading the charging Berserker's sword that decimated the tree behind him.

The hulking mass smiled at him as Sieg readied his sword again to block the incoming strike.

It was that moment that made him aware of it. From the trajectory and speed of the strike he judged that it would pulverize his body yet he felt himself move instinctively changing stances and moved out of the way while the swords collided.

The air rushed past him, knowing that this was the path Rider of Black used to run after the other Rider, flying past trees and scenery and hearing the clashes of lances.

He used a short [Prana Burst] to change his directional movement and spun around to see the continuous clash of lances. He felt the pain and yet everything flew in slow motion. Not far from him, he knew that Berserker of Black was rushing after him. And not even farther was someone the other Servants didn't know of. Sieg's brown eyes met the girl's who nodded at his unasked question.

A ripple in space appeared through which he disappeared and reappeared not far above Rider of Red. The enemy Servant stilled for but a moment before blocking the boy's blade from slashing his neck and kicked Astolfo's lance upwards. The pink-haired boy; however, made a sideways-motion, meeting Sieg's eyes and knowing exactly what they were going to do for now, hitting the space beside his fellow Rider.

Rider of Red stared at the action for a fraction of a moment and realized that the space in front of the lance was slowly starting to ripple. He swatted Sieg aside and jumped away from the pair just as the tip of Astolfo's lance appeared in the middle of the air, multiple times.

"Oi, oi, oi. Is there somebody else hiding here?" the Servant asked, scanning the area while Berserker of Red broke through the tree line and threw his sword at Astolfo. The sword flew through another ripple and penetrated the Mad Servant's shoulder instead. Now that Sieg had a moment to relax his stance he saw the slowly starting to deform body of his adversary. The slashes he thought didn't amount to anything but transforming the beast's body instead. The hulking mass of muscles increased to a point that it broke through the skin of the Servant.

He gulped now smelling the burn of his own skin. His Magic Circuits have been overheating for a while now which now showed on his skin which started to blacken like coal.

"Well now. I wonder what'll happen first." Rider of Red started hefting his lance onto his shoulder, smiling at the pair. "You dying or us finding that little friend of yours which makes those portals—" something embedded itself into his shoulder. He seemed just as confused as the boys before registering the arrow in his shoulder. He grimaced from the pain before another barrage of arrows volleyed down upon him and Berserker of Red who just stood still and smiled to himself.

Rider of Red then retreated, making both Sieg and Astolfo exhale in relief though now they had to deal with the hulking mass that was Berserker of Red. Except the enemy Servant just grinned at them before turning around and following after Rider of Red.

"What the—why did he leave?!" Astolfo exclaimed loudly.

Sieg knew what that was—why the Servants just left without a word. He went forward—ready to run after the enemy before Angelica arrived at their side and held his shoulder.

"Now isn't the time to run after the enemy. You are barely clinging to consciousness," she said but he didn't want to hear it. Astolfo too grabbed his shoulders and said things he didn't need to know now.

"He's waiting for me. He challenged me." he told the two. The pinkette looked at him in concern while Angelica simply opened another portal to return to their base without muttering a single word. It was clear that neither of them was going to let him pursue the Mad Servant; therefore he sighed and let the exhaustion take over.

:: Part -Sigurd End ::

Chiron, from his look out atop the castle tower, sighed in contemplation.

To think that he was forced to once again encounter Achilles. Even worse to be forced to fight him in this War for their wishes. He hadn't felt this bad in a long, long time. Ever since he lost his immortality he felt as if something was missing from his life. But to exchange his selfish desire with the life of his pupil…it maddened him in a way how the Fates still haunted him.

A tired sigh fell out at this, though he hadn't forgotten that his Master Fiore was still sitting beside him. She looked at him and he was too tired, emotionally, to speak out hence he explained the situation to her through telepathy. She looked at him in concern and he was reminded of the humanity of this girl who ought to behave like a Magi.

"I take it you know the enemy, Chiron." Saber's voice echoed through the night, though mostly within his mind. The knight had retreated herself respectfully in the shadows while observing him. They had grown somewhat acquainted and now he knew for certain how she must feel. To face someone they never wanted to encounter again, especially like this. "I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive."

"Saber," he began, watching the horizon that his pupil disappeared over. "These Grail Wars can be quite cruel."

The knight agreed with a hum before asking Fiore if she could leave them alone for a bit.

His Master complied with an "Of course," before steering away from them with her wheelchair.

"It's one of your disciples, isn't it?" the King of Britain inquired.

He only nodded, already steeling his resolve.

"And by your reaction it must be one of the more famous ones." Once when he hadn't known the knight before, he had assumed that she wouldn't look at others too deeply. He had reevaluated his mindset over time since Arthur Pendragon did indeed watch others and tried to learn more about them. It was a trait synonymous with kings and queens alike.

"Achilles," was all he needed to say for her to hunch forward and sigh. Of course she would. There were few heroes of old Greece as well-known as Achilles. His feats and actions were as legendary as his one true weakness. Dealing with his immortality in this war will still be very difficult as he had to intervene in Rider's and Sieg's fight with Achilles and Berserker of Red. The centaur didn't want to think about these matters anymore so he changed the subject. "I do have to commend the child though; he exceeded the expectations I placed on him splendidly."

"Indeed. His teamwork with Astolfo was very impressive and it shows how much they trust another." The knight slowly moved her hand closer to his feet as he stood atop the sill. He eyed her from the corner of his eye—moving his feet just close enough and lifted it. Saber's hand retreated and quickly excused herself: "I have to tend to Irisviel. She has been worried about the boy and it will relieve her to know that he's returning."

When the Once and Future King left, he got down from the sill, moving carefully with his right leg before his left hand moved to his left foot. He picked up the piece of paper that laid in his palm and carefully, to stop prying eyes from noticing, read it.

_Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillennia has been identifiedas a dangerous element and the danger of her defecting to the enemy has risen due to recent events. The plan to eliminate her will be arranged by Darnic within the next day. Refrain from telling your master right until the time of excommunication._

He sighed again, crumbling the paper in his fist and putting it into his mouth. He chewed for a good ten seconds before swallowing.

So it had truly come to that. When Vlad informed him about Celenike being dangerously obsessed with Rider he believed him but when the Lord Impaler told him and Saber of the danger and risk she might present should her jealousy regarding Rider and Sieg go too far. This discussion had been going on for the better half of two weeks and it concerned him that Darnic's observations seemed to bear fruit.

"Archer, is everything alright?" Fiore asked when she came back.

He carefully put back his calm facade back up and smiled at her, giving her an answer she wanted to hear and left the tower with her shortly after. His thoughts; however, were running into so many directions that he wished they would leave him alone.

:: Part Chiron End ::

:: Part Chald- - eeee - - _ - - $%§"!

Once they arrived in the Singularity, she immediately realized that this wasn't how it was supposed to be. In fact, when they were back in the base in their time, the alarms went off and stopped within moments and even the director couldn't explain why there was suddenly another Singularity appearing and disappearing in irregular intervals.

They watched it for a couple days and noticed that it seemed to stabilize over the time. Truthfully speaking, she didn't look forward to enter another timeline again. Last time was a nightmare and this one felt as if the worst was waiting beyond the veils of time.

Mashu was standing beside and voiced what she was thinking when they stood before…it. In front of them was a void with countless debris flying through it and a single blue orb with "events" playing out within it like a misshaped TV Screen.

"What is this?" She couldn't agree more with her kohai and had it not been for the heroic legends standing behind her, she might have felt overwhelmed and even alienated, but took it in stride. All they needed to do was find the cause of the Singularity and they could get home with everyone and enjoy their time.

"Mashu, do you thi—" She had been thinking about how maybe she could get the younger girl to give her an optimistic overview and show them more of her cute side…or risk the wrath of the granny-loli behind them. Yet, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered as even she, a common girl who was forced into a world changing adventure and who had no prior experience being a Magi, could feel the ocean of "Energy" rushing towards them like a tidal wave.

It crushed right in front of them with dust hovering around the crater. The figure was tall; though not taller than the Berserker behind her but just as muscular with his most distinguished feature being his spiky hair rising leftwards and bangs covering the man's eyes. Well calling the newcomer muscular would be an understatement considering that it appeared as though he was made of them. An-

"Before going through with your narration of your thoughts and emotions I sadly enough have to inform you that you have neither a place or a role in this story," The man interrupted. "And before we lose even more readers, I'd say the lot of you can become commentators alongside us," he said before pointing at himself with his left thumb.

Dumbfounded, the Chaldea crew looked at the man who looked back just as emotionlessly.

Until a second thing came crushing into the ground next to the first man. This time it was an Indian-looking man wearing mostly black an—

"—you did tell them that they aren't part of the story, right? I don't wanna loose the plot due to irregular elements from canon that pop up whenever they want. What was the last thing ya did? Destroy Fuyuki? Great! But what dits thou say? Somebody stole the Grail and made Waifu bait 9000 go evil -again-? Well, sucks to be stuck within a fickle author's hands then, huh?"

"You're breaking the fourth wall too much. And didn't I tell you that I'll keep them away from the story?"

"About that, since we've decided to relegate 'em as commentators like us, apparently Berserker of Red is going to go off script."

"And you came rushing to tell me to see how I'll react? Typical, really typical."

"Nah, that's not all. Apparently we've got two new OCs. If the author of this story doesn't eff up then their appearances will be minimal at most."

"Great to hear. But really now, I do believe this segment will need some way to make the conversations different otherwise nobody knows whose talking with whom and in the end everybody is confused."

_"Sorry to say this but I've gone ahead with that M'k?"_

_"I hate you sometimes. And really, Italic? Not that my Italic-_ **Bold** _is any better."_

"What is going on here?!"

::: TBC :::

_A/N Ye~ah I have no excuse for the last bit, but rest assured that the people at the end of this_ _chapter will have no bearing on the actual story and that they are just commentary._

_To clarify, Sigurd is the North Myth equivalent of Siegfried but better. Sigurd is Siegfried without any of his weaknesses and all of his powers and a sword that is literally labeled Odin's-Sword in the Edda. Yeah I'm using the Edda, sue me._

_Anyhow, I hope that y'all are satisfied with the little skirmish I threw little Sieg into XD He will not be overpowered nor will he follow any of the tropes some typemoon authors throw in to make their MC win in the end. Sieg is just a boy who wants to life and his story will not be the center of this fanfic in any way._

_darthwolf- I'm glad that I delivered on that premise then XD But sorry to say this but no Counter Guardian for plot reasons __

_miguelgiuliano . co Once again my Man I'm sorry for not speaking spanish XP I'm glad that you liked my depiction of Vlad, guy's fun to write and I love giving some spotlight XD And good that I made you question some things, look forward to that XD_

_King0fP0wers - Why thank you for the kind words! The Black Faction didn't deserve all the bad rep they've got and I especially have planned many good things involving Avicebron. About the Grand Servants, let's say that there is a good plot relalted reason why they are called that in this story. Besides that I am glad that you found enjoyment in this story and look forward to your insights in the future as well!_

_Andrea - You're a delight every time I see you review and I wholeheartedly agree that the Pendragon's just need to fucking talk with each other. Then again on Mordred's defense, the brat never received kind words from her mother and hearing that the one they admired since they first saw them was their father, one has to be over the moon and then to hear said idol reject you...that does kinda suck right? Still thank you for your review as always!_

_Guest D - I agree on almost all points! But the Grand Servant thing will be touched upon don' worry ^_^ And nope there won't be any romance for Sieg, though I hope this chapter sated your curiousity on what will happen to him somewhat XD_

_Rika23 - You were a delightful suprise today and I'm glad that you enjoy this story and I can garanty you that you will enjoy it even more in the near future *wink**wink*_

_But that aside I hope you are all looking forward to what I'll dish out next XD Please leave your impressions in a Review and in case you want to insult me for my lack of creativity you are also welcome to do so as well XD_

_Look forward to more!_

_And shout outs to the Hero of this Story! My Beta_ Emerian _,who took the mess that is my grammar and made this chapter beautiful! Check out their awesome story Fractal Scarring if you wanna know how the Red Faction had developed had Mordred stuck around!_

_Yours dear_

_Sha Yurigami_

 

 


	6. Even on These Crossroads

:: Concerning yourself with the matters of others leads to more trouble than necessary ::

When she had first entered this new age, she wasn't met with the sight of her Master. In fact, the only non-Servant she encountered was Shirou Kotomine. He claimed to be a member of the Church and that the other Masters had entrusted him with their command and how the War will proceed. Confirming it with the telepathic messages of their Masters, she immediately decided that she didn't care what happened to them.

Her wish was more important than anything. Atalanta promised herself that she was going to see this war to its end. Though, it was quite ironic considering that their Caster claimed the same. She didn't care for his flamboyant appearance or his bloated speech patterns. Yet she couldn't help but be reminded of the theatrics performed during her times when she watched his antics.

What concerned her the most were the many uncertainties regarding her comrades as well as Kotomine's Servant.

She introduced herself as Semiramis, the Queen of Assyria, and claimed to be of the Assassin-class. Yet she carried herself more like a Caster. Atalanta didn't care for the woman's claims but the way she had looked at the Argonaut filled her with rage. It was the same look given to her by her father and supposed spouse. Eyes that only saw an ends to a means. Eyes of tyrants and beasts that saw nothing but a tool to be used and disposed of.

It didn't take long for them to clash. In fact, it was the very first night when she pointed an arrow at the Poisoner. Normally, such an act would be considered treason but in this case, it was a result of Assassin's comments or Caster's fault. As a result, she had a vivid and most unwelcome flashback of reliving her worst night in her previous life but that couldn't be. That man obviously denied it when she encountered him the next time, but it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Had it not been for Lancer and Rider pulling her away from the vixen, she wouldn't have hesitated to commit murder. In hindsight, she was grateful for their intervention as it opened up conversation between them. They talked about their lack of Masters and how they were allowed to leave the fortress on their own—a freedom rarely granted by Masters and that was suspicious in itself. They revealed their True Names to each other, as a form of trust, and it surprised her to meet two of the potentially strongest Heroic Spirits in this war.

Karna, the antagonist of the Mahabharata and the Hero of Charity. A man with a sharp tongue as deadly as his spear. He didn't conceal any ill will, carried himself with dignity and respected her and Rider in his choice of words.

Achilles. A hero nearly unmatched in her era. Coming from the same geological origin, he immediately tried buttering her up with compliments though he remained respectful and kind despite her own harsh words and rebuttals.

There weren't many who could carry themselves like these two legends and she was grateful that neither attempted to invade her comfort zone like Caster and Assassin did. She understood that they were her comrades at this moment in time and after her confrontation with the self-proclaimed Queen, she was certainly grateful for the respectful distance they gave her after dragging her away.

After that, they had some opportunities to discuss their plans for the War as well as Kotomine and his two lackeys. The only thing missing was the more…unstable member of their Faction.

Neither her nor Rider had seen or heard anything from Berserker but Lancer reassured her that it was wiser not to encounter it until the hulking behemoth made its move.

"What makes you so sure that Berserker will act on his own?" Rider asked him, clearly amused at the prospect of going to war sooner than expected. His behavior reminded her of the many boys training under that famed centaur and each had lusted for glory and proving themselves to someone.

"Caster has been feeding him," was all the Son of the Sun God needed to say for Rider to groan and let his head drop. Caster had been rather intrusive lately, asking questions that were better off not answered and assuming things as if he wrote their life story. He claimed to be an author, and yet his words and actions seemed more reminiscent of his experience in theater.

Suspicions aside, Berserker indeed made a move and both her and Rider were tasked to support him. That their plans derailed to such an extent so early on, however, were probably beyond what Kotomine expected. Not only did she need to save their Faction's Saber from the Black Faction's de facto leader and someone she honestly didn't expect to encounter, Rider and Berserker were forced to retreat from their assault on the enemy's fortress too.

The only good to come from their loss that night was her securing more information regarding Kotomine: some of the Black Faction's Servants being revealed and Berserker of Red leaving, disappearing into the forest. The latter surprised her to some extent but she didn't pay it any mind. What was important was taking out the other Faction, as well as Kotomine, then claiming the Grail.

So how exactly was she stuck with Saber of Red and her Master, having dinner in a dim, rotting tomb and combing the protesting blonde's unruly hair? She remembered doing something similar with Medea when the princess was younger. A fond smile wormed its way onto her face before her eyes darkened. What happened to the girl was one of many tragedies befalling the children of Ancient Greece—being toyed with, at the whims of those in power, and controlled like a puppet who couldn't see the strings until the puppeteer cut them.

"Would you sit still?" she asked kindly, ignoring Shishigou's raised eyebrows, though the smile playing on his lips told her that he appreciated Atalanta keeping the Knight of Treachery at bay.

Saber continued to squirm for a good few moments as Atalanta continued her ministrations in taming the unruly mane. The comb flew through the sea of blond while she smiled at the softness, before neatly bringing it together at the back of Saber's head and holding it at place.

"Sorry—no can do! You're the one who suddenly decided to brush my hair!" She ignored the knight's semi-aggressive tone before taking the ribbon that tied Saber's hair together and neatly tying it. She would add a bow too but she suspected the child would become genuinely aggressive.

The Archer got up from her spot from behind Saber and took a few steps back and sat on one of the coffins. It was untouched, as were the rest of them. Desecrating the dead was a common practice for necromancers but she never suspected the pair in front of her to be so forthcoming.

"Would you like some too?" the man asked, his tone friendly but Atalanta raised an eyebrow at the concoction in the offered spoon. It looked edible but Saber ended up biting down on the spoon and ripping it right off her Master's hand.

Both adults looked at the pouting Saber as she continued to chew. Sure, Servants didn't need to sustain themselves through food, but it still felt natural to eat. Atalanta herself remembered days on the sea, starving to feel something fresh in her mouth.

"See, it isn't poisoned," the Master said with a smile while handing Saber a plate who took it begrudgingly. "It is my first time trying my hand at a Borscht though. I hope it is to your taste, my liege."

The Argonaut looked between the pair with raised eyebrows.

"Liege? Is it your dream to succeed your father?" She asked, catching the glare Saber sent her Master before addressing Archer.

There was the same irritation in Saber's voice laced with a moderate amount of hatred and…something else. "I'm going to lift the sword from the stone and show my old man that I'm better then him." The knight fell backwards after devouring her meal and glared upwards.

"I see."Atalanta had been informed by Karna of the adversary he wished to confront; she didn't know whether she should tell the child in front of her just yet.

Though it might come as too much of a shock considering that the knight had lost her fight tonight. If they want to win this battle, all of them need to bring their best, so Atalanta chose not to tell Mordred of her father's involvement in this Grail War until the next dawn. Let her rest and gather herself before giving her a head to hunt.

Sometimes having your goals too close to you can lead you astray. A lesson she learned the hard way, especially with her own father.

::: Part Atalanta -1- :::

"Is there a reason man seeks conflict?" he asked into the room. Shirou Kotomine knew that he was alone. He made sure that neither Shakespeare nor Semiramis would enter his confines—posed as special request, hoping that they would respect it while he sat inside the confession booth.

No priest sat inside the other booth. Yet, he still felt it. The ever-growing darkness swirling like crawling chaos in spite of its faceless state.

Shirou's head began to fill with the terrors he experienced. The lives lost in fire and bloodshed without remorse. He questioned his own thinking for so long and started to lose the grip he held onto his own morality once he heard what shouldn't be heard.

 ****MA** _n_ d **O** _es_ **NN** 't s **EE** k **cO** n **FL** ic **T**. t **H** e **Y** **D** es **IRE** _Their_ **O** _-own extinction,**_ it said. ** **P** a **R** r **D** o **N** **M-E**. H **uM** Aan s **P** peech s **S** -till _eludes_ me to **A** -a certain degr- **E** e.**

He bit his lip.

"Eldritch," he whispered, denying the untold truth from corrupting his mind and soul. In advance, the Ruler-class had spoken the Divine Aria, placed holy objects, and prayed to his god, begging for forgiveness. He painted a pagan symbol to ward off those laying in the deep on his hands and the booth.

 _**Wise.**_ Its speech turned more human steadily—more coherent but still hurtful to his ears. ****Relying on** _-Wisdom- gathered._ **By. Monsters?** _Peculiar.**_

"Why do you haunt me?" he asked, feeling his back burn. Shirou, once upon a time, wished upon the heavens that his wish to unite humanity would be granted. The church aligned with him due to his religious status, knowing that he was a Servant and keeping him hidden in case another Holy Grail War broke out—waiting. For over sixty years, he had been patient and praying that his life will find meaning and that he may accomplish his goal.

Yet on the dawn of the new millennia, they sought him out. He looked down, not daring to look into the abyss out of fear that it may stare back.

** **You** _will._ **Succeed** _. I guarantee that._ **

What interest did the Abyss have with him?

_**Nothing much._ **I—We** _have seen. You fail. Fall. Despair. So_ **We—I** _will lend. A helping hand.**_

Shirou's eyes widened. Had it read his mind? No…that wasn't the case. To try and make sense of those which are beyond common sense would only lead to madness. He took a deep breath.

"I hope your price isn't too high. You have given me two Servants who shouldn't exist and the means to sustain them as well." Shirou didn't want to remember the blob-like creatures he saw. He had laid eyes on them only once and seeing the familiar face of an Einzbern homunculus within the mass of flesh and limbs nearly caused him to feel something he swore not to.

He let go of his earthly tethers. "Daemons like you should not be on the mortal plane," he accused, knowing very well that he needed to keep his voice even.

 ****I—We are. Not. A. mindless beasts like your race thinks of us. It sounded even more human and the breaks it took disappeared with each word it spoke. I—We assume you humans think that** True Daemons **and our** _kin_ **are one and the same.****

The booth vanished. Shirou found himself sitting at a glass table with a single leg while the space around him distorted into crawling chaos.

Such is not the case Dear Shi-ro-u. This mortal coil belongs to no god of yours. The Lord of Logic cut it off the cluster and hence belongs to whoever takes hold of it. This story is far too interesting as not to negotiate with its inhabitants.

"You talk about this reality as if you were beyond it? **Abyss Speaker** , such a repulsive name for a being that isn't even tangible in this dimension." Damn. He made a mistake. He shouldn't have let his emotions be swept into his speech, and he couldn't help it as he stared at the faceless mannequin, made of a white cloth. The darkness within the being spilled forth, bubbling, and revealing countless eyes staring at him.

The shudder running along his back was suppressed, barely. He couldn't help but gulp down the rising bile. "You and your kin…what do you want from me?"

 _**Abyss Speaker_ **…is that the name you humans gave me—us? Interesting. I prefer the name Yab-Yashnibbura since we are kin to the** _Nameless Darkness,_ **forever gone as it might be. I am also a Negotiator of** Nyarlathotep **. Our duty rests in helping your kind and advance your evolution. But do call me by your names if it is easier,**** it said, sitting with a leg above the other and holding its hands above its belly.

Shirou knew of them, of H.P. Lovecraft's works—madness, racism, and fear—which he couldn't help but name. Had it not been for that man and his works, he wouldn't have heard of the "Crawling Chaos" that tempted the curious and innocent into the darkest abysses. It told him what it was and it revealed its origin without hesitation. The only thing that didn't make sense was its involvement with Shirou.

The priest formed the symbol Lovecraft designed to ward off the monster's influences on the table, noting the glow once he finished—a seven-branched tree. It was strange to think such a simple ward would keep the beasts away from his sanity.

"If what you said is true, then why me? Because I failed in all the other realities?" If what this monster said was true than it existed in even more planes of existence then Zelretch. Then it would not be out of turn for it to be able to see and interact with him in multiple realities simultaneously. Though Abyss Speaker did say that this reality had been severed by some deity…then this was his one chance in fulfilling his wish? Or was this an attempt to show him the inherent futility? Either way his beliefs will be tested.

 ***You'll figure that out soon enough*** , it said, and Shirou found himself within the confession booth once again. It was as if time hadn't moved since he began to speak with madness itself.

Should he find comfort in Semiramis and let her talk about her era and the nature of man or should he entertain Shakespeare who will recite one of his plays once again, tonight? All he wanted at the moment was to forget the being lurking in the dark.

He needed to remain oblivious. The more Lovecraft's protagonists sought the truth, the more they fell into the madness and realized how small they were in the cosmic coil. He needed to distance himself from the truth and continue to pursue his aim in the same faithful manner he once did all those centuries ago.

Truly, he needed to make his dream come to fruition should they ever be able to stand up to them.

:: Lusus Naturae – Part End ::

Caules found himself in a predicament. To be fair, he wasn't sure what he had expected when Vlad Tepes stood at the entrance to his room and even let the Lord Impaler in. He certainly didn't expect Vlad to just sit on his chair and stare at his computer in utter fascination and not doing anything for a good minute.

"Caules." He nearly jumped out of his skin. "I—…Let me start again. How much time do you put in for operating this … personal computer?"

He wasn't sure if he wanted to answer that question or not. "It depends on whether not you're going to impale me when my answer isn't to your liking."

Caules knew these thoughts were unfounded since Vlad seemed to be fond of Berserker but still. Who wouldn't be scared out of their pants when the actual Dracula stood before them?

"Fear not. I am only curious," was all Vlad said before directing his gaze to the monitor once again. "If you are unwilling to answer me, then at least teach me how to use this…construction, without breaking it like a caveman."

Was Vlad the Impaler really asking him of all people? Weren't there better suited people to consult the Lord of Wallachia?

"Berserker has told Arthur that you are well versed in this internet, which helps you find information from across the world. To think we had such a useful tool in this castle and no one but you puts it to use."

Sweat was dropping off his hands and Caules bit his lips. He mustn't allow Vlad to know what he really did on the internet. And he internally cursed his Servant for spilling the beans that he was in possession of a computer. Should his sister, or worse, Irisviel, find out what he did… just imagining it made his knees wobble.

"O-of course." He prayed that Vlad would think that he was nervous because of the Servant's sudden appearance—partially true—and approached him slowly. Standing just slightly to the side of the Servant he then clicked the browser first.

In that moment, Caules cursed every deity the internet informed him of as his browser's tabs were the same as last night…showing Vlad the fucking Impaler, who hated vampires to his very core, images of "Moe Vampires in Space", a magical girl sci-fi anime about vampires in space fighting against an alien invasion of Mad Rabbits…

He should have deleted his cache—scratch that, his entire browser history or better, bury his computer so that his secret would be forgotten by the sands of time—

"Caules." Vlad's voice brought him out of his trance and the boy, while sweating profusely, looked at the Servant with wide eyes. The lord seemed transfixed on the images shown to him. "This will remain between us."

Did this mean—

"It does not mean that I won't use this as an excuse to enter your room at any time to research actual important information."

Caules, for a good hour or two, didn't stop crying on the inside.

Vlad had remained in his room, reading some long articles about Romania and its population. The Servant remained stoic during his stay but Caules clearly saw the burning anger in the Lord Impaler's eyes frequently. Especially with articles regarding himself and his family, it seemed.

What confused him, however, were the articles Vlad was deliberately going through at a quick pace. Most of them were about politics and history while the ones the Servant was reading slowly were about…Dracula.

While watching Vlad enthusiastically reading on his computer, Caules couldn't help but remember the time he booted up his first PC. It was such a different time. His sister had never been interested in modern science and found solace in her crafts. However, when he first laid eyes on a computer, on the modern world, he felt like a fish out of water—in a good way.

Curiosity was the first emotion he felt towards modern society. Magi were always hidden, trying to keep themselves away from the rest of the world, and even history. Didn't they understand that the more they separated themselves the more they wouldn't be able to connect with those on the outside? He mainly used his computer to surf through the internet, to learn and to escape from the burdens of a Magus. Watching and ordering Anime related media was just another part of that.

Caules was never interested in Magi culture and society. If he had a choice, he wouldn't be a magus to begin with. But he couldn't leave his sister alone. Not in this environment. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the way Vlad was watching him, and when he did he nearly jolted off his bed where he sat on.

"I-Is something wrong?" he asked out of caution.

"Do I click on this 'X' if I want to turn your computer off?" he let out a sigh.

At least Vlad asked him and didn't rip the plug out of the wall like Berserker earlier. Caules got up from the bed and made his way towards his PC, closing the browser, then turning off the computer. He wasn't going to question Vlad's strange behavior; the man literally threatened Darnic's crown jewels by summoning a stake just to prove a point.

"Say, is there a reason why you instructed Berserker not to use her full capacity?"

"…did she tell you that?" You two went out into the city together after all, he wanted to add but it didn't feel right.

Vlad shook his head with a smile.

"Avicebron told me. Apparently she came to him for an examination after you told her to not use the full output." Caster? Really? Caules thought the masked Servant didn't care for anything or anyone but his golems. "Was there an inherent reason for why you chose to give her that command?"

Caules held up the hand bearing the Command Seals. "As you can see, I only told her not to. I didn't waste a Command Seal just to restrict her." Though he wondered why she accepted his instruction so easily. "And to be honest—after going through her blueprints which were also my catalyst for summoning her; I noticed that her frame wouldn't be able to handle the maximum output of her Noble Phantasm."

Vlad hummed at his reply, not even attempting to look oblivious to that information. "Did you also know she is afraid of animals?"

Caules bit his lip. How did Vlad manage to get so much information already? Sure, the Servant was the "pseudo" leader of their Faction but he never saw this man depicted as a thoughtful and methodical tactician like he appeared right now.

"Did you see her acting afraid when you went out with her?" Vlad nodded, telling him about the time a dog barked at her and she clung to his arm. "Yeah, I saw her life in my dream so that sounds about accurate. She had been attacked by a stray dog when she was alive, looking for something beautiful to prove to Victor Frankenstein that she wasn't a failure." His eyes narrowed slightly when he thought about his Servant's 'creator'. A man should never create something and then expect it to be perfect.

More often than not, it will bite him in the arse. He had to think about Fiore and her disability due to her Magical Circuits placement. Her legs were the result of their parents' inability to understand what their children truly needed. Caules was a failure in their eyes since he had very little potential as a Magus, so all the responsibility fell on his sister, who was bound to a wheelchair.

"That would explain her behavior to some extent," Vlad muttered under his breath before he got up and pat Caules shoulder softly. "It is a good thing that you are Berserker's Master." He left the room just as silently as he came.

Suddenly, relief came over him. Not noticing that his Hellsing volumes were missing from his shelf.

He had to scratch the back of his head at the Servant's sudden departure before blushing a little when he realized that the man had thrown him a compliment.

:: Part Caules End ::

"You seem restless," her Master said.

Saber knew that she shouldn't feel this way. Years of hard training and practicing her reign on the harsh soils of Britain should have hardened her; it should have made her isolated. A tired sigh escaped as she slowly turned to the albino standing behind her.

"Iri." She wanted to run, to stay hidden from the cruel twist of fate. What was Vlad thinking reenacting a ritual just to break—she couldn't bear to let that thought form so she focused her attention on the lady, who was looking at her with genuine worry.

"Is it because of what Vlad said? Or is it…because of him?" She couldn't let her lady look so concerned. A face like hers was better suited for a smile and laughter. So instead of answering, she motioned for her Master to follow her onto a moonlit night walk. Complying, Irisviel fell into a comfortable pace next to her.

"Frankly, I'm overwhelmed with everything that happened so far," Saber admitted, strolling through the gardens of their barracks and watching a few fireflies dancing in the wind. The king of Britain raised her hand and summoned a small gust of wind within her palm, inviting the fireflies to a dance. "During my reign, when something shook my footing, I would ignore my feelings or confide in the Fae."

Fireflies gathered around her, flying along the gust and following the pair like a parade of jack o' lanterns. She was reminded of wisps, living flames, spirits that lit a path through the dark on their good days. Sometimes she needed to send word out for finding children taken by the Fae though that rarely happened due to Arthur's connection to the Lady of the Lake.

"The sword in the stone was meant for those who would let go of their humanity and become something more," she whispered. "It isn't a blade to slay your enemies—I proved that during my first battle. Once, it shattered so it may be replaced with the Sword of Certain Victory." More and more lights lit within the bushes and danced along her winds. "And while I now know that it found its way to your hands, milady, I cannot fathom what thoughts must have went through your mind about my legends as it came to an end."

Irisviel followed her, not smiling, but still entranced by the display of light and wonder. Unbeknownst to Arthur, the wind guided the fireflies to form images in the dark. Of Camelot, the Sword of Promised Victory and the Lady of the Lake. Yet she frowned and Saber wondered what her Master was thinking while she stepped closer to her.

She said, "When I found out about the location of the Greater Grail in Romania, through Jubstacheit, it gave me a choice: which Servant I wanted to call."

Saber raised an eyebrow. Irisviel didn't talk much about her life before coming here. That was mainly due to the fact that there wasn't much to tell.

Her Master had lived like a princess captured in a castle—she could go where she wanted, yet never allowed to truly leave. During the few times she talked about the Einzbern patriarch, Saber remember the indifferent expression on Irisviel's face, giving the Once and Future King the impression that the man didn't care for anything but results.

"It was the first time he allowed me to choose for myself. Normally he would tell us what to do and how to behave but this was the first time he gave me an option. I could summon Heracles or the Servant they had originally prepared for the Fourth Holy Grail War." She smiled at Saber, that same beautiful and innocent smile she swore to protect. It was her way of telling the King that she made her choice without faltering and with no regret.

Yet to hear a father as commanding and focused on results giving his child, that he for all intents and purposes, derived of free actions, the right to choose her own path whereas she had denied her ow—Saber's eyes widened slightly when she felt Irisviel's hand in her own. The fireflies dispersed as she let the wind go, nearly reenacting the nightmare she had lived through.

"I want to show you something," Irisviel said when Saber calmed herself, nodding at her Master and letting the albino lead her by the hand. They left the gardens, their barracks and entered the side entrance of the castle, leading into the dungeons. They didn't exchange words out loud, instead continuing with telepathy.

 _I may not know the pain you are going through, but know that not once have I thought of you lesser because of your actions regarding Morgan or…Mordred,_ Irisviel reassured her, squeezing her hand and giving her a kind smile.

Saber shook her head, knowing full well how her actions have been depicted throughout the ages. It was my own immaturity that lead to Camelot's demise. She smiled at her Master to not make her worry too much. _If I had been a wiser king—a better father to the child I had not known existed—then… Maybe if I had consulted more with Merlin before he disappeared, or if I had just laid judgment on my friend and wife for their adulterous love... There were so many mistakes due to my own failings._

 _And yet you were the light that shone on the battlefield and gave hope to those that had not._ Irisviel looked at her, standing right in front of the gates that separated their path from the Greater Grail. Her Master held a firm look while Saber couldn't help but stop and admire the blind faith she had in her. _There is no child in the known world who had not heard of the Once and Future King. And while the tales changed over the centuries the spirit and inspiration you brought to all of '_ **us** _' is testament of your success._

She wanted to rebuke those words despite how much comfort they gave her. Once her reign fell—savages ravaged the lands, kings and queens, and even entire dynasties rose using her name to sully the soil and carry out atrocities and now her name was synonymous with child murder. There was no greater sin than violating the roles of parentage. She was no hero or king to be worshiped…yet something in her Master's speech made her stop from forming those words.

The gates opened and she was greeted with the sight of the Greater Grail. It was a sphere-like object though with an opening that resembled wings and the image of a woman within it. She stood in awe every time she entered these halls, though to her bewilderment, Irisviel carried her farther through the back passing the Grail.

There was a small corridor leading downwards with a spiral staircase leading even farther down. Despite her curiosity she kept her mouth shut and her thoughts to herself. She chanced a last glimpse at the Greater Grail before following her Master into the depths.

"...what the—" Once they arrived at the lowest level, she was met with the sight of a pale girl reading thick books. In fact, the entire floor was filled to the brim with books, making it hard to find safe footing. The girl barely acknowledged their presence aside from smiling once at them before retreating to her book. Saber eyed the title recognizing the name of the author. "Is she…?"

Irisviel nodded at her unspoken question. "Yes, she is the homunculus made with Avicebron's wishes in mind. He requested that once this child has become aware of her surroundings, that she was to read as many of his works as possible before she fuses with Golem Keter Malkuth."

"But…to sacrifice a child for a mere weapon." Saber felt repulsed, memories of Morgan's deception and her using Mordred to—the knight shook her head, averting her eyes from her Master and looking at the child who looked at her intently.

"You seem to be under the impression that I have been forced into this position," the child said, to their surprise. "Fear not, even if I fused with the Golem my conscience would still continue to exist and prosper in an artificial heaven. It is written in these scripts after all."

The sweet smile the child gave them wasn't matched with the hardened light within her red irises. Saber took a cautionary step back, instinctively holding her hand in front of Irisviel.

"You…speak …But that—" Irisviel muttered while the child shook her head.

"…the Abyss…-…-…I…-…I refused…" the child spoke in fragmented whispers though Saber still heard broken bits and pieces. The homunculus smiled before looking back at the book. "There is nothing to fear once it is born—the walking miracle. Now if you would be so kind and leave, I still want to read through these texts at least a fourteenth time."

The Master-Servant pair excused themselves, still shocked by the homunculus' behavior, and left the room. Both of them returned to the chamber of the Greater Grail and sat down on the chairs that were placed in the middle of the room. Between them was a small round table decorated with a single flower.

"Had you known? Was that the reason you have lead me here?" Saber asked.

A child that had no choice yet rejoiced with blind faith that she had a purpose. She had seen that look before, more times than she cared to. Those were the eyes she saw whenever her knights looked up to her. Devotion to a cause. Blind devotion.

"To be honest—I was just as shocked as you when she spoke so clearly. It hasn't been that long since she woke up and started to read," Irisviel commented, laying her hands over her knees. "I wanted to show you that there are beings in this world that find hope in stories and tales from olden days."

"By showing me a child that found devotion in texts," Saber finished, a small smile forming. At first she thought that Irisviel tried to console her by showing the king a child that didn't lament her fate. But with a closer look, she realized that her Master just wanted her to worry less about the what-ifs. That child represented the present. "Though I don't know how much the child has been influenced by Caster."

Saber looked up from her seat, listening to distant steps traveling towards them. The steps stopped when Irisviel started talking again, a respectful distance away.

"The thing is, she started to read on her own." Her eyes widened at Irisviel's words. The child chose to? "While it is true that Caster instructed us to, this child began to read through all theses books on her own. When I asked her if she wanted to leave the basement she shook her head and when we dragged her upstairs, she observed everything before reading again out in the open."

"It appears that she truly enjoys the words and the world depicted in the books," Vlad voiced once Irisviel finished and they looked at him when he approached them. "I am sorry to interrupt your meeting. I chanced to see your firefly performance, Arthur, in the library."

"It wasn't my bidding—the fireflies follow the wind they dance on," she answered, offering the Lord Impaler a seat but he declined with a wave of his hand.

"I just wanted to inform you that Darnic will be sleeping tonight. I had Solomon mix a sleeping concoction into his drink." Their eyes opened wide, and Vlad shook his head merrily. "Truly, the man has not slept in days, if not since the beginning of this war. He needs the rest—therefore I would bid you a good night as well."

"Wait!" Irisviel stood up. "Why did you really propose Caliburn's ritual?"

Saber didn't know if her shock showed on her face but she could care less as Vlad started to chuckle at her expression.

"I can see why Arthur is infatuated with you, Lady Irisviel." He smiled as her lady flushed.

The Once and Future King only now took notice of the book he carried in his free hand. It was a red hardcover book with a simple lettering printed on its front. Her thought process stopped momentarily when she laid eyes upon it before her gaze met his again. "Rest assured, my reason for proposing the ritual was genuine."

"Vlad." Her eyes were still searching for the truth in his. "Mordred was born to defy me. Another scheme of my sister to hurt and take from me. One that succeeded." She knew her words upset Irisviel and she couldn't bring herself to look at her Master. "There is no way that child would accept such a blatant trap."

"Isn't it true that he looked up to you?" She bit her lip, reminded of the time on that hill that question that still haunted her "If that admiration is still there— and it is. Otherwise, he wouldn't dare make the claim to lift the sword—then it is a bet I would be willing to make."

"Mordred is unfit to be King." Those words. She hated to use those words. The reminder of her failure and the words that sealed the fate of her homeland.

She stared into Vlad's eyes, seeing the spark lit in his eyes and she was reminded that this man was once feared as a demon.

He had found something she feared. But what it was, Arthur did not know.

"I apologize for intruding upon your—" he paused, smiling at them before filling the room with a single word that left Irisviel and her blushing "—date."

And he excused himself while waving at them.

:: Part Arthur End ::

The night was still fresh despite the battles that happened. Blood had been spilled and not a single life had been lost on either side of this conflict.

King Hassan concealed his existence as much as possible while moving along the spine of an old building. The structured appeared mostly finished, though the vegetation grew upside down. A property of the Hanging Gardens?

There were still signs that the construction hadn't finished yet. Grass didn't grow on the pavement but the neatly carved rivers were filled with lotuses and other swimming plants. Poisonous?

…no—from the way the fish ate it, it was safe to assume that they were either selectively poisonous or harmless.

All rivers led to the large cathedral-shaped building. Lights were glowing from within—two oil lamps encased in glass.

The shadows didn't reach the building. An intentional design to keep away intruders? No sentinels.

Guards? A row of doves watched from the roofs. Countless. They didn't react when a rock fell next to them. Familiars or some form of conceived being. It was safer to assume that they were bonded to Semiramis. A cloud floated over the roofs, extending the buildings' shadows to the cathedral.

Once inside, and out of sight from the doves, a quick glance along the halls revealed a broad structure. Old in design yet fresh. Some walls had been painted with strange markings and stick figures with creatures that didn't look real. Carpets, red in color but distinctly modern. Might be trapped. Moving along the walls and corridors several doors fell in sight. Most if not all were closed, some though, were leading farther into the dungeons. Candles lit the paths.

Footsteps could be heard. A stride. Confidently walking down the corridor was a man with brown hair and goatee but his most distinct feature was his Elizabethan clothing with a cape hiding his hand. The man strode past the traps lining the floor, not watching as he went—even writing. A useful skill for those with less time than others. Words in archaic English. A Nobleman? No—from the way he hummed, it was safer to assume that he was more akin to an actor; going from there, it was more obvious that this Servant was a playwright.

"Oh, to be or not to be?" the man muttered, placing his feathered pen against his chin. The words he said didn't match with the written text.

It was a tale of a nobleman falling from grace due to not realizing that his words of faith spurred the wrong crowds. And the tale of a servant of God failing to recognize the danger he put himself in.

"The elegance of such a delicate misery. How I yearned for such a long time to see and experience the madness that accompanies the wicked. To find one driven by such foul desires yet claiming and being so pure and radiant as a midnight moon rise~" The man moved forward, not looking back over his shoulder while continuing to muse.

Should he be followed? It was clear from the man's appearance that he was a Servant, clearer that he might be Caster.

…no.

This wasn't a potential threat at the moment. Following the path in the opposite direction was another stretch of tunnels. Strangely wooden walls appeared at certain corners of the corridors which now started to resemble catacombs. At the end laid a large gate made of solid rook and granite.

Dispersing into flames or disappearing into the shadows would be the easiest to do but the sudden feeling of dread at approaching the door spurred a sense of retreat. Singing was heard behind the gates. A deep—but clearly feminine—voice. Beasts and birds joined her songs while the screams of a man were droned out by it.

Leaving the gates and moving past them towards the deeper depths of the fortress were several chambers. Most were guarded by skeletal creatures. Some had heavier-looking beasts nestling before them. The screams of a man echoed in the depths even further. The creatures reacted rarely, remaining at their posts.

"Please. I beg you!" a soul was crushed. "P-lea—se…" a vile smell rose from the chamber. Inside the chamber lay a man, bound by chains, dressed in a white suit drenched in his own blood. Brown hair. Asian facial features. A brand scorched onto his chest and half his face. "I-I already…tol—d-… you- ebrythinn…" he was sobbing. "I-I- du'no ho'ta 'et i'to the cas'le."

Hyouma Sagara. Member of the Yggdmillennia. Curse user and originally intended Master of Assassin. Proposed to use an artifact associated with Jack the Ripper. Poor choice of a Servant due to the unknown nature of Jack.

Another mystery rests here though. The chains binding him to the floor were poisonous. The scars inflicted on his lower body were recent: the brandings smelled fresh, probably inflicted tonight. He had went missing after his role in the War was denied, his whereabouts only now discovered.

He must've revealed information from the looks of it. Old information that wasn't up to date for a month or two, though still somewhat valuable to the enemy. Should he be freed from his suffering? But at the moment, his tormentor remained unseen. From the wounds suddenly forming however it was safe to assume somebody did those from within his body. A virus? Or was it the poisonous chains?

It didn't matter. His life was going to disap—Hyouma's body contorted while he screamed, crying—he cursed all of them before his body collapsed into itself. Clothes collapsed while a round object remained underneath. Moving out of the cloth, the flesh-like substance curled around itself until it resembled a sphere. The ball then rolled on the floor towards an opening on the wall. Beyond the wall were countless pipes and floors meeting and woven together into a singular path. Following the ball were countless other blobs, rolling towards an unknown location. The flesh balls were of different skin colors, some still scarred from the torture they must have experienced.

The work of Caster? The blobs had disappeared behind a wall with countless openings. No light from the other side. The surge of prana burning in the air was a reminder that something wasn't right here. And the sound of something bouncing and crashing along the corridor was an indicator that something was coming towards him.

"—!"A beast was crashing through the pavement and walls, screaming with unbridled rage, jumping from wall-to-wall before slamming its fist against his sword. Its strength was too much, he realized. It was pushing back his entire frame backwards while releasing a barrage of countless strikes against the blade.

Teleporting through blue flames was rendered useless as the enemy charged at him again without an interruption.

Tribal.

Primal.

That's how it appeared.

Male, with darkened skin and white color in tribal patterns painted on its skin. Its sharp teeth bit into the steel to stop the slash aimed at its head. Feathers were woven into its hair and were used to make the skirt of this Servant. Countless fur pelts hung around its body. It dragged its foot which had long sharp nails digging into the ground. A loud growl rose from its throat before slamming him with its teeth into the wall opposite of it.

A Berserker without a doubt but that couldn't be—all Servants had been summoned. The only exceptions that existed currently were Julian and Sieg though both were only partial to their side and Amakusa Shirou on the Red Faction. Moving along the shadows proved just as futile as the Servant ripped a large boulder out of the wall and threw it at him. But it was a window of opportunity; he slipped past the Berserker through the wall into one of the upper corridors.

The shadows quivered with each howl of the beast. Leaving the vicinity was an option that would be considered once more information was gathered on the enemy. It was clearly a Servant with enormous brute strength. Male with tribal markings meant it was either one of many Native American tribes or something older.

Along the walls were paintings. A possibility yet impossible through normal means.

A boulder flew through the corridors, blocking the path.

The Berserker howled once more rushing towards him with a spear in hand. It was a long wooden spear with a sharp rock-like head. The Servant stomped onto the ground with enough force to break it and threw the spear with such speed that it broke the sound barrier and ripped the pavement as well as anything in the way.

Evading the spear was easy due to its trajectory but the enemy Servant rushed right along side it, slamming into the broad side of the blade with its feet and preventing its usage. He summoned his flames, ready to incinerate the Beast but it simply used the momentum of the impact to jump back, immediately arching back and casually lifting the boulders from earlier to throw at him.

He surged forward to impale the beast only for it to lean out of the way while its lower body remained set, threw back its hand and slammed it into the blade, diverging its path as well as nearly ripping it off his hand. The Berserker used its additional momentum to resume its punching spree and its other fist connected with his skull.

Blue flames erupted from his eye socks, scorching the beast as it jumped off him. He dispersed himself into flames appearing behind the Servant to cut off its head.

For an moment, an ominous feeling surged through him. The beast howled, arching back, inches away from its demise. The sword was swung numerous times, cutting the ground, surrounding constructs as well as the walls yet each time he disappeared for these attacks or when he accelerated to catch the Servant off guard it evaded the strike with a hairs width.

[Instinct] of that magnitude was unheard of. It evaded not only the slashes aimed at it but also the surrounding he cut to make them fall onto it as well.

Light on its feet—[Mind of Eye True] came into his mind watching this mad Servant completely outmaneuver him. Blue flames surged around the blade, charging up and releasing it like a tidal wave destroyed the grounds and walls.

All he needed was a single moment to escape and disappear into the night. But something wasn't right. He felt another being observing the fight. The doves were flocking around to watch the spectacle but he searched for something else.

Out of the rubble and engulfed in his flames, Grand Assassin jumped out of the cathedral, a trail of dust following him as he flew through the night. The mad Servant he had engaged in combat with disappeared in the collapsing structure but his own [Instinct] told him that it was still there. To remain close by and engage with three Servants was a possibility, yet the appearance of this beast threw a wrench into every plan.

Then—a log was shot through the air with breakneck-speed, burying itself next to his head just a couple steps before his retreat. Looking back, the sight of some of those fantastical creatures in the lower levels had been puzzling. At first glance one might've thought they were Mesopotamian creatures brought forth by either that Caster or Semiramis…but they might as well have been summoned by a Rider.

"Took you long enough. I was getting bored after finishing my job." A gruff voice echoed into the night.

Male. Dark skin. Most likely of African descent though the facial features appeared more Asiatic. The Servant stood atop one of the cathedral's towers juggling a log with one hand and several overs under the other.

"Let's see what you're made of," the Servant announced before catching the log from underneath and throwing it at him.

One after the other, this Servant threw the logs which embedded themselves into the ground. Each one were so fast that a normal human's eyes wouldn't be able to see them until they were impaled or crushed.

He cut through two or three logs, breaking them in ways that concealed his appearance before dispersing into flames and teleporting behind the enemy Servant. Before his blade could connect with his adversary's neck, however, the howling scream of his previous opponent broke through the night, and the roof they stood on, and stopped the blade with its teeth.

"So now you're helpin' me out huh?"

The saner, enemy Servant arched backwards before throwing a log with all his might into Grand Assassin's face, launching him into another building entirely with the maddened Servant chasing after him. Before the impact, he manged to erupt into flames, and the beast was quick to chase him and threw half of a house at him.

With unparalleled speed, the other Servant ran after them along the side of a building and dropkicked into the broad side of his blade forcing him into the ground while the maddened Servant spun around them and attacked his footing.

He threw aside his blade causing both enemies to collide before he jumped back in to grab his sword to incapacitate both Servants as once. The maddened one threw its ally over his head backwards, before its hands caught and staved the blade off its head. The other Servant landed on his hands where he immediately launched himself at Grand Assassin, pushing him away from the mad Servant.

The Grand Servant regained his footing quickly.

This was different.

He surged forward meeting both Servants charges at the same time and was pushed back. The mad one was stronger. The sane one faster. Both couldn't be what he feared them to be.

The mad Servant met each of the blade's thrusts and slashes with its fists, neutralizing each and every attack while the other one took some distance between them to lift more trees off the ground for ammunition. Trees were launched at him like bullets while he was still engaged with the Mad Servant. He jumped back into one of the trees while it flew past him, watching how the mad one easily evaded each and every log launched with its nimble body and acrobatics unseen before. Every time a log was close to its head, the beast evaded it by every gymnastic routines he could think of as they passed it.

Grand Assassin used the projectiles as footing so he could run along the logs to reach the sane Servant. Moments before his blade could reach them, the mad one rushed at him from behind and bit down on his shoulder, actually denting the armor before being thrown off when he spun around. The sane one used his spin to jump against him and then off to a great distance afterward.

Strong legs. Strong arms. A built tanned by the sun and durable joints. Prefers to use logs instead of summoning the Noble Phantasm—which was probably too large and too slow for this confrontation. Hands with calluses and simple garb despite the golden necklace. A shipwright? Fast and strong, meaning the Servant belonged either to the Rider category or to one of the knight classes. The later could be ruled out due to the lack of a Noble Phantasm in close quarters combat. Adding in the many creatures of various decent sleeping and guarding the catacombs below, then a Rider. A powerful one at that.

While lining the Servant's information up, he reached into his coat and threw knives at the Berserker which it either caught with its teeth or evaded. The glare and its growl were an indicator that its rage was reaching its peak soon.

Something wasn't right. These Servants were too powerful. Either of them was enough to pose as a challenge but both of them were forcing him into the defensive.

Swinging his sword in a wide arch, the maddened one kicked into the ground, lodging its foot into the ground, before roundhouse kicking the blade. The confrontation of muscle and steel broke the ground beneath them and shattered the surrounding buildings.

Hiding within the cloud of dust that rose, he zoomed toward his adversary using his [Flames of Gehenna] along with a mighty swing to cleave them in half.

Except they leaned so far back that the slash missed the mad Servant and instead parted a good chunk of the buildings as well as the dust cloud laying over their surroundings. His eye sockets burned blue as he prepared for the beast to straighten itself and throw a punch.

Dispersing into flames before the impact left the building behind him to be shattered upon impact.

A wild roar surged through the night before a log shot through his cover and left rifts in the dust cloud. The logs were shot at him from multiple angles all in short intervals. It was then that he noticed that the cloud started to spin as a large wave of wind pushed it into a spiral shape. Igniting his flames, he burned the dust, causing a dust explosion that pushed back the wind and the sane Servant.

However, in that very moment, a brief window of opportunity presented itself to the mad hunter who threw his previously discarded spear at him.

He wasn't a fool. Hassan knew the risk and took it. Him losing the function of his left arm was one he took willingly, yet he didn't account for the amount of force behind that attack as it propelled him through building after building while he tried to stop with his legs pushing against it. At last he thrusts his sword into the ground stopping at the edge of the cathedral. His attempts to stop the push back lead him to circle around the Hanging Gardens' surface, destroying most of the building as well.

When he regained his footing, his body was already hunching forward with his blade laying on the ground inches from his hand. He grabbed it, ready to resume the fight when the foot of the sane Servant buried the sword in his hand into the ground. He looked up meeting the eyes of the Servant who watched him in fascination.

 **"Ye shouldn't exist,"** King Hassan said, prepared to throw a punch despite the loss of his left arm.

The gruff voice of this dark-skinned man echoed in front of the cathedral "You're right. We shouldn't. Same goes for you, right?" The Servant placed his other foot on the blade as well, kneeling while looking up into his armored face. "So let's get along…

…as fellow Grand Servants, okay?"

Grand Assassin ignited his blade, causing his foe to jump off and create distance between them. Forcing the sword out of the ground he then threw it towards Grand Rider who clicked his tongue before catching the broad side of the blade with his hands—the force, however, threw him back. Just as he leapt into the air, the mad Servant rushed right beneath Grand Rider at Grand Assassin connecting its fit with his.

The ground broke from the collision. Though it was King Hassan who came out short. He stepped backward, giving in and causing the Servant to move past him. Grand Assassin went for Grand Rider who was still mid-air, grabbing the hilt of his sword and catapulting his foe towards the ground.

Grand Rider just stomped onto the ground upon impact, still standing and managing to evade Hassan's follow-up attack. Rushing alongside the walls, the mad Servant accelerated to the point that everything behind it got ripped to pieces and connected with Hassan's left side. A necessary sacrifice, he decided. He lifted his sword once more ready to use this window of opportunity to cleave his adversary in half.

Yet the beast caught the edge of his blade with its teeth again. Then it kicked and punched King Hassan's body before being swatted aside. Grand Rider charged at him at the same time, flipping, and meeting the mad Servant's feet with his own before kicking it off into his direction.

An error in judgment. Grand Assassin leaned sideways, nearly dropping onto the ground to make the Mad Servant pass through the ripped out part of his armor and body. Blue flames burst out of the opening as the beast was right above him, scorching it before slamming the broad of his sword against its head. Just as Grand Rider spin-kicked against it to stop the strike, he let go of it and King Hassan punched his fellow Servant in the face.

Until the burned hand of the mad Servant grabbed it and held on his arm with its whole body. Somehow the spear it had thrown was in its hands again and slashing at his armor like a wild beast. A Noble Phantasm. The spear was its Noble Phantasm. Primitive and made to kill. King Hassan didn't want it to be true. Didn't believe it was possible as the skin of his mad foe started to regenerate but with a different patterned marking.

 **"Cavemen…"** he whispered, making the mad Servant look at him.

A legend before legends existed. A Servant manifesting humanity's first savagery. The beast that hunted Phantasmal Beasts before legends about them existed. It wasn't just one Heroic Spirit—it wasn't even a Heroic Spirit as this being existed before the Human Unconsciousness. It was the materialization of countless hunters of the ages before the Age of Gods.

They who painted their tales and achievements in simplistic colors, shapes and meanings on countless walls throughout the world older than the oldest heroic figure, fighting beasts and living through dreams and legends.

The oldest human spirits collected into a singular being.

The first Berserker.

Grand Berserker.

King Hassan immediately dispersed into flames creating as much distance between them as he could before Grand Berserker leapt at him again.

Its [Instinct] was beyond anything that ever existed, bordering on precognition and clairvoyance. He couldn't think of a way to make the mad Servant let go of his trail that didn't involve putting on additional risks.

"...now that you realized that you can't escape from this situation, why don't you join us?"

A voice. Faint. Gentle and weary.

The attacks of the other Grand Servants ceased, both of them facing the figure standing at the entrance of the cathedral. Beside him were a woman dressed in a black dress with a divine allure and the Caster King Hassan saw beforehand.

The boy had white hair, tanned skin. A gentle expression on his face and garbed in religious clothing he knew Christians to don. His hands were covered in white gloves with a strange symbol printed on them. A tree with seven branches emitting a soft green glow.

 **"How did you do it?"** No reason to avoid the obvious facts. The how was important because it meant that an outside force of otherworldly nature—one of the Beasts even—has its hand in this Grail War.

"Similar to how you were summoned, Old Man Of The Mountain—Grand Assassin Hassan-i-Sabbath," the lad said. "Forgive me for not introducing myself." He bowed slightly. "My name is Shirou Kotomine."

That was all he needed to know for now. He opened the connection between him and his Master.

Julian telepathically spoken with him, sounding irritated by his sudden attempts at communication.

 _Summon me within fifteen seconds with a Command Spell._ Julian sounded concerned when he spoke again but he trusted the lad to uphold his word.

"Once again. Won't you join our cause?" Shirou said, a saintly aura emitting from his body as he extended his hands towards Hassan. "Together we can give humanity salvation." Had it been anyone else, they might've been swayed, but he knew what he believed in and the path that needed to be followed and upheld.

**"I refuse."**

"A pity," the boy said and looking at the other Grand Servants. "You may finish him before his Master uses a Command Spell."

Too late. King Hassan snickered internally as he felt the pull of his Master's command bending the space around him, distorting the images approaching him like Grand Berserker's terrifying visage ready to bounce at him overlapping with the light of salvation radiating from Jeanne d'Arc. The latter was an indicator that he had found himself admits the halls of the Ainsworth Barracks. The forbidden Box closed around them.

Both her and Julian stared at his damaged and broken armor, especially the missing left arm, in shock yet there were more prompting matters to be taken care of.

"Gather the others in the morning." Not immediately. Darnic had been put to sleep not too long ago. The same could be said about the other human members of their faction and the ritual Vlad proposed couldn't be interrupted until the morning hours. King Hassan knew that this information was crucial but he also understood that not everyone could be like him. And thankfully, he created enough damage to the enemy's fortress to keep them busy with repairs for another day or two.

He excused himself from the two lads, disappearing in blue flames.

:: Part Grand Servant End ::

Vlad had been informed by Julian about Grand Assassin's situation but that could thankfully be ignored for the moment as the Grand Servant chose to remain stoic about it. As concerning as it was, he still needed to finish his research about this matter as fast as possible.

Not helping this situation, however, was the presence of a little shadow on the other side of the door leading into his chambers.

"You may enter Berserker," he said while laying the book he was about to read on his night stand. The girl came inside, cheeks slightly red. He watched her visible eye look between him, or rather the missing coat as he sat on the bed with just his dress shirt, and the books scattered in his room and he sighed when he guessed what she wanted. "If you want me to read to you, be aware that none of these stories are particularly child friendly."

She simply nodded and moved to the left side of his bed, tiptoeing in the gaps between the books, looking at him with wonders in her eyes. He had to remain composed when he looked into Berserker's trusting eyes. Those were eyes filled with wonder and respect. The eyes of a child adoring their parents. If the girl never experienced what it felt like to be part of a family then he would love to give her at least that. He too missed his family. Missed the simple moments of life and the short time of peace that existed when he crowned himself king.

Vlad hummed and put the blankets around her frame before patting her head gently. He wasn't sure how long they were going to remain this peaceful, most of it relied on Grand Assassin's report about the Red Faction, but for tonight—he was certain that they could relax.

So he started to read from where he held off, having barely started the book, a story that marked a legend, brought forth the fears and wonders and changed the way people viewed the world for better or for worse:

_"Jonathan Harker's journal…_

_—I was not able to light on any map or work giving the exact locality of the Castle Dracula, as there are no maps of this country as yet to compare with our own Ordinance Survey Maps; but I found that Bistritz, the post town named by Count Dracula,…"_

:: Part Vlad – Prelude – End ::

She knew that something was going on. Whether it was the others planning something stupid or that stupid ritual Caster was doing at the moment.

Nobody told her anything of real importance for a while now. It has been a difficult few weeks, especially with that little pest taking up all the time of her Servant. Curse him, if he hadn't been an important asset for their faction she'd have cursed him and all the other homunculi until their corpses resembled vegetables!

Celenike sat on the chair in her chambers. The corpses of young homunculi laid on her bed, their blood dying her sheets red. She would need to throw them away or burn them eventually. Then again it might be fun to gather it up and make Rider drink it without knowing.

Oh, how she longed to break that innocence. How she desired to make him beg and kneel and make him her plaything but Lancer had taken a liking to him instead and made sure that whether he was close by or just down the corridor to put a spike beside her head, next to her face or directly pointing towards her nose as a warning.

She knew that Astolfo hadn't said anything revealing to Lancer; she kept him at a close leash after all and viewed everything he did through their Master-Servant link. Even when her Servant dared to flirt with that sorry excuse of a human test tube baby. She bit her fingernails, stabbing the straw puppet on her table and inflicting another wound on the corpse on her bed.

"S-Some— **body** \- seems _ss_ displeased." Her eyes widened at the voice appearing from the darkness of her room.

"What do you want?" she didn't look and closed her eyes. Her ancestors had warned her to never look at them. It had tried to communicate with her for a while now but until now she continued to ignore it. This time however it had a more understandable speech pattern, hence why she remained calmer and could at least lash out at that thing!

But instead of an answer the voice disappeared and left her alone with her thoughts and even more rage.

She screamed, slashing at the doll countless times over and over and over.

::: Part Celenike -about to get worse- End :::

_"Are there still—"_

**"Nope. No eldritch activity in the vicinity of the story."**

_"Meaning they are already inside the story."_

**"And we can't do jack shit about it. I didn't even see what was going on in that confession booth and it wasn't even warded against observers."**

Mashu: "Uhm, I'm not sure I understand what Is going on here. Could you please elaborate?"

_"Ah right, completely forgot about you guys. So here's the rough gist of it. You probably thought that this reality is a Singularity right? Well, you're not wrong but not right either. It is a standalone story separate from the activity of your cluster."_

Ritsuka —"That is also something I don't get. Up there on this teleprompter thing, I think I heard that that expression too."

**"You heard that? Where and when?"**

Ritsuka — "More like I think I did but I'm not so sure about tha—why are you looking at each other as if you know what is going on?

_"You, medear might have been curse with a gift."_

"How can somebody be cursed with a gift?"

_"Oh, right. Servants are also here. To answer that question would be too complicated so let's just say Ritsuka-kun can hear what should not be heard since normally people go insane if they hear eldritch voices. Guess you being the female one has its perks huh?"_

_"What my friend here tries to tell you is that your entire universe is like a giant kaleidoscope, however since it needs a source of light—since light, AKA the Big Bang, is the source of everything—it shines into all directions in different frequencies as well as temporal dimensions and so on and so on. Your Kaleidoscope has several fragments that have been cut off from it since it is a 'cluster' of crystal like structures. Those cut off realities—or in this case stories—just float in the infinite dimensional sea which eventually are then consumed by other realities or by eldritch abominations beyond imagination."_

_"Dude, that paragraph was hard to read."_

**"Shut it. Either way, since no real eldritch activity has been located, that means someone or something with considerable power decided to make that reality its plaything."**

Ritsuka — "Is there something we can do to help them or—"

_"Nothing."_

Ritsuka — "But!"

_"We are not allowed to interfere with the story whatsoever. That was my deal with the Lord of Logic who gave Nasu the spark to create your reality in the first place. You can't argue with something that existed before the concept of the Endless were even a thing. Hence why I and by extension now you can't do anything about the story in or outside of it. The only thing we can do is watch and observe and pray that they can get hold of that Happy End on their own."_

Ritsuka — "Still. Even if whatever Lord is against you interrupting it doesn't mean we can't help, right?"

_"I wish it was that easy. But you can't argue with the source of all Wave functions. The Lord of Logic and the other Zoas aren't keen on letting lower lifeforms like us or those Gods out there interrupt in their games and tribulations."_

_"…"_

_"Such is the price for freedom."_

::: TBC :::

A/N I apologize for the lateness of my update. I'm not sure how many are still interested in this story due to my long absence but I hope that this story will still be entertaining and manage to spur the imagination of my readers!

I hope that the last segment at the end of this chapter didn't confuse you. Take it with a grain of salt or just ignore it if you want to. Besides that I hope that the inclusion of Eldritch Horror isn't a turn off for you and that I managed to implement it in an interesting way ^ ^

The Rupture \- Sure hope this story is entertaining to you ^^

miguelgiuliano . co You have become someone I am always looking out for my man and thanks for leaving your comment in English ^^ Don't worry about Sieg though his role this story is rather ...unimportant...

Andrea \- Big Sis Atalanta FTW and I hope this chapter fuelled your love for our bid Sis ^^ Yeah the thing about Sieg is that he was utterly underused and mostly a blank slate for the reader/watcher to project themselves onto...too bad that backfired right?

Guest - I hope that the next couple of chapters (and this one) can alleviate your worries!

karenovera Wow, thank you for the big complement XD NO proby about the language since I'm not a native speaker either but yeah I hope that I made the Black Faction come together more like a group of like minded goofballs with terrifying amount of cunning minds ^^ The Mordred thing will be touched upon soon though I agree that I also wonder whether she could or not. But I think only the Mordred that realized her true wish AKA the one beaten up and poisoned by Semiramis could have manged to pull it out.

See you next chapter and leave me your thoughts in a Review!

And also once again shout outs to my Beta Emerian for being so awesome and making this chapter readable XD Check out their Story Fractal Scarring , a story about how Mordred learns how to chill and be social AKA find a family in her fellow Red Servants ^^

(Also I have to apologize for the lateness but work and real life have been kicking me where it hurts lately and I had little time to write which caused me to write everything within a week or less XP)

 

 


	7. Greatness

::: One is either born with greatness or greatness is thrust upon them :::

Achilles watched the moon above him, laying on his back with his arms under his head and his spear right next to him. Lancer of Red was beside him, against a tree with his eyes closed as if in meditation. Sometimes he wondered what went through the mind of the other man but he didn't really care.

He searched the sky, smiling when he realized the constellations were still the same as back then, though maybe a couple more were added after he died.

How they must feel right now in Elysium. Those he fought with and those he knew of. His eyes wandered over to Orion, still hunting those seven princesses. He chuckled when he remember the tale of the self-proclaimed greatest hunter who ever lived only to never catch what he truly sought after. Now his greatest failure was for all to see immortalized in the heavens. How Artemis must feel knowing that this hot head ignored her for some pretty girls.

Achilles viewed and respected the heroes so great they were made into stars. And he saw the constellation that brought him both joy and sorrow: Sagittarius.

Great joy and pride welled within him when he remembered his teacher. The centaur, so wise and kind that he taught countless heroes not to fall on their butts. The sage who was like a father to him, taught him Pankration—and Achilles never managed to defeat him—and the ways of war and heroism. Chiron taught him how to be a man. How to understand his own weakness and what it meant to truly be a god among men.

Not once has he regretted his weakness. Rather, he was thankful for his mother going through such lengths to make him immortal. To learn, however, how his teacher was stripped of his immortality and died from the Hydra's poison devastated Achilles. He bit his lip when he thought about the pain his friend must have gone through. He would curse Heracles for such an act of betrayal but he knew better than to judge a man plagued by rage and madness. Would have been fun to fight him though.

More memories of his friends were brought to the front of his mind. What made him think about all of that anyway? Ah, right—laying here like this and looking up into the sky. It brought back memories from his childhood. Brought back the calm before the battles he threw himself into. And he smiled that he was once again in a war, and that he could fight once again to become a hero worth his parent's names. A worthy hero and student to his teacher Chiron.

Achilles closed his eyes for a moment before looking up again, watching the moon.

He wondered if Artemis was looking down on him right now? Probably not since she had been more fond of Big Sis. A shudder ran through his spine when he thought about her. In a way, he could understand why she hated men; after all, the Amazons weren't fond of him either, especially because of the shit he pulled during the Trojan War. He never remembered being such a lazy sack of dung, recalling his portrayals in the Iliad.

He knew of the Argonauts. Who hadn't in his time? She was a legend worthy of being called such. Especially since she traveled with his father, who had been told him all about the fastest and kindest of the Argonauts.

Kind to children and from rumors he heard, quite popular with the fairer sex as well. He chuckled when the the image of Atalanta with knockout babes in each arm entered his mind. He would never tell her though since he was more than certain she'd take it the wrong way and shoot an arrow through his brain or worse his heel. She could after all; he did see her as a friend and companion. The same went for the Lancer next to him.

And that was the reason why he didn't understand how Big Sis' father could do something like that to her. He really wanted to find that man, tie his legs to his chariot with a rope and circle around Troy with him. Just like Hector.

Sure, the fool might die but that was the rage, caused by disrespect towards a hero. Especially with Big Sis' supposed husband. Sometimes he wondered if the gods were intentionally cruel to those that didn't deserve it.

He averted his eyes from the moon and sat up, staring into the direction of the enemy's fortress. Over there were at least three Servants that could pose a threat to him. The Once and Future King, a legendary figure rivaling him and Lancer in fame—and power judging with their fight with Karna—he licked his lips. How would they stack up to him? How would the Greatest Knight with one of the holiest swords ever fight Achilles?

Then there was the Black Faction's Lancer, Vlad Tepes—Dracula. Perhaps the man could turn into a vampire. He knew this particular Servant was powerful since the very country they were going to fight in was his home turf. A fame boost of this magnitude would make this Lancer one of the most powerful Servants in this War and from what Big Sis told him through telepathy, he was easily overpowering Saber of Red. If the man could control those stakes of his like that then he posed a real danger to his weak point.

And then there was that Archer. He didn't know how far away they were and Big Sis refused to tell him who it was yet, but it was clear that they too were divine. There was no other way to penetrate his skin with an arrow if they weren't.

Was it a fellow Greek? Maybe it was a Roman hero or one of those Celtic miracle workers. He did hear of Queen Mebd's assassination from Caster. The woman died from a piece of cheese. There was nothing else needed to be said about that Archer's skill.

Either way, he looked forward to challenging that Archer and drag them into a good old hand-to-hand beatdown.

"Is something the matter, Rider?" He turned to meet Lancer's gaze.

"Nah, I was thinking about the enemies we are about to face." Achilles smiled, resting his spear over his shoulder.

"You sound like you are looking forward to that," Karna stated ,before closing his eyes and relaxing against the tree.

A smile formed. So the big bad Karna could relax too.

"How could I not? These Grail Wars are the best excuse for our kind to find out whose stronger and who's the bigger hero," he said.

The Lancer hummed. "I don't see much difference in our heights though."

Achilles pursed his lips at his words. "And if we count Archer and Saber, then I would assume that Berserker would be the biggest Heroic Spirit among us."

He laughed, despite Karna's irritated look.

:: Part 1 Achilles End ::

When Vlad stopped reading, Berserker was still awake—sleep really wasn't important but she found listening to his voice to be soothing. He had been kind to her and showed her affection she never received from her father. It was the same with Arthur. Both of them were kings and very kind to her. So she liked the both of them.

She wondered why Saber of Red didn't like Arthur. But Arthur didn't tell her, because Iri showed up and hugged Berserker. Iri and Fiore were nice too. They always gave her sweets when nobody was looking and she gave them flowers in return.

Vlad closed the book and looked at it for a moment or two, before tossing it onto his bedside table.

He laid down beside her, arms folded over his stomach before turning to look at her and telling her about his brother.

Radu was a kind, strong man who found the teachings of the Ottomans more appealing than his angry brother and found happiness in their culture.

He told her of the three times he took the throne of Wallachia. When asked why he didn't live somewhere else where people don't hate him, he laughed, telling Berserker of the people he met on the fields. The folk that lived in fear and oppression. He saw the good and the bad of people and wanted to create a home for those that lived in fear.

But then he shook his head. "Maybe I just wanted to find my place in this world."

Berserker didn't understand Vlad sometimes. She understood what he tried to say, somewhat, but she also didn't understand that look he had when he talked to her. But his last words spurred on something within her.

She hadn't noticed the tears until they hit the cushion beneath her. Instead of asking, Vlad merely handed her a tissue. The night was nearly over and both of them closed their eyes.

In her dream, she saw a boy and a girl in a wheelchair.

It took her a few moments to notice that the girl looked like Fiore. A smile formed and she trotted towards them; that was until she noticed the dog laying on Fiore's lap. She jumped on reflex when it barked at her. But then her stance relaxed after Fiore tamed the beast. If Master's sister could control the monster then she could come closer.

Both her and her Master looked so little and Berserker wondered why. She watched how both of them picked flowers and how Fiore patted the dog and combed its hair.

She sat down beside them. Picking flowers was something she always found…liberating? It was so easy to pick one off the ground and watch each petal dance in the wind. It was a different kind of beauty than what she brought to her father back then.

Without her noticing, the scene had changed. No longer was she in a garden close to a mansion, but in a dark and dreary chamber with a magical circle drawn on the ground. Both Fiore and her Master were standing beside a man chanting something. Berserker looked around, irritated, not understanding why the scenery changed. Her eyes then fell on the dog from before laying in the middle of the circle.

And then it howled. She held her head at the howls, averting her eyes from the suffering dog and the sound of blood dripping onto the floor.

Why did that happen? What was that?! She did not understand. But Frankenstein did understand the look tiny Master had. It was a look similar to how Father looked at her, but it wasn't directed at the beast in the circle—or what was left of it—but at the man who still didn't stop chanting.

Fiore remained motionless.

Berserker slowly stepped closer to see the girl's face and only saw a set jaw and hard eyes. Frankenstein tried to touch her arm but the scene faded once more, shifting to a forest with two children digging. One was crying loudly and the other bit his lip, not stopping as the ground took the leftovers into itself.

When Frankenstein opened her eyes again, she looked at Vlad who was resting still. His face was hidden under his hair while his chest rose and fell slowly. When she got up she saw the sun shining through the window and birds watching her from the windowsill. She cocked her head sideways before baring her fangs at the feathered menace.

Once the birds had left she looked around the room again, seeing a familiar figure sitting on Vlad's sofa. The masked man didn't say anything and only put a finger to where she thought his lips were signaling her to be quiet. Avicebron was reading the book Vlad had thrown aside last night, flipping through the pages at a rapid pace. She watched him for a good moment or two before grunting softly.

He shook his head before looking at her. Instead of answering her inquiry, he pulled out a clod of dirt from his coat, making it float in his palm before its shape started to change. At first it became a ball before tiny strings came out from its side, looking like a sunflower and then changed into Vlad's head before melting and becoming the clod in Avicebron's palm again.

Understanding what he meant was a little difficult but she assumed he meant for her to be still and let Vlad sleep.

She grunted again, this time motioning to him. He looked down at the book, then back to her and changing the form of the dirt once again. This time she understood clearly what he showed her. A sword stuck in a stone. Carefully, as not to wake Vlad up, she moved along the bedding and then softly strode on the floor towards the seated man.

When he stood up to escort her outside she noticed once again that Avicebron was really small for a man, shorter than her as well. And looked a little like a mannequin. Still she respected the golemancer since he didn't lie to her and even took time to examine her body. She needed to play more with Roche so Avicebron wouldn't get distracted from his important research.

:: Part Frankenstein I End::

The night before, right after Grand Assassin had left for the Red Faction's fortress, Julian had invited Jeanne d'Arc into the Ainsworth's chambers.

Ruler noted that the boy was rather stoic in his mannerisms and hid his pain behind his eyes. She saw many children like him during the war she fought. Many had resented her and cursed her for not saving them. She saw that he constantly tried to keep his composure and kept his right hand hidden in his pocket despite his command seals marking his left.

The barracks of the Ainsworth were three simple rooms in the section of the main castle with a good number of stuffed toys sitting on the floor.

Cute, she had thought but the sinister aura each of them was emitting made her retract that statement immediately. Jeanne knew that Magi weren't above putting the souls of others into jeopardy if it meant they could reach their goals. And each of the stuffed animals eyes followed them while they passed which made everything even more terrifying.

Julian guided her to the farthest door opening it and motioning for her to enter. She eyed him, seeing no deception in his eyes, and went through the door, only to meet the sight of an entirely different building.

In front of her was a two-story building with a pitch black exterior and a huge box-shaped object behind it.

She turned around to demand an explanation from the boy but he jerked his chin at the building.

Julian passed her, entering the building and showing the European-styled interior before excusing himself to bring them some tea.

"In case you are wondering, our magecraft allows us to manipulate space to a certain degree," Julian explained once he returned and put a cup and saucer on a table inviting Ruler to drink. "This is a space that exists in Imaginary Number Space. It is most useful, considering the Magus Association is vehemently searching for what we hid from them."

"Which would be the box behind this building," Ruler concluded and the boy nodded.

"Indeed. It is the last remaining fragment of the Box of Pandora." Jeanne's eyes widened. "I don't need to tell you what worth this artifact has for anybody of the Magical Society. It is essentially a prototype version of the Holy Grail we used in this War which allowed us of the Ainsworth Clan to see and connect with the Throne of Heroes."

Ruler knew exactly what he implied. The only way to summon a Grand Servant into a Grail War would either be to summon their regular version from the throne which was difficult enough in the first place since the Old Man of the Mountain was nothing more than a fairy tale to his own sect.

And the other way would be to use external means.

"Is there a reason?" she asked but Julian only shrugged before taking a sip from his cup. She eyed the concoction in her own mug and wondered if she should trust the boy as much as she did the Einzbern earlier.

"…our clan had to repay a debt with the Hashashin," the boy said, putting the cup down.

Ruler eyed him suspiciously. What did he mean by that?

The boy however averted his gaze from her and started into the back of the room where a large balcony lead towards the cubic object. "The last member of the current Hashashin helped us retrieve the forbidden box."

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell slightly.

"You probably already guessed it but—" Julian removed his right hand from his pocket, showing a strange marking around his index finger that seemed to extend into his sleeves. "—this is proof that we are indebted to them and a reminder of the promise we made."

"And you are telling me this why?" She became sickened at the implications Julian presented. She didn't want her suspicion to be real, because that meant this war might derail even farther without enough moderation.

"Because the Magus Association got rid of the Hashashin, including the member who told us the location of the box." Julian looked into her eyes, showing her the madness and pain within them. "And we promised to bring them back. Not out of obligation, but because the necessary evil is needed— no matter the age."

:: Part Jeanne End ::

When he was alive, he certainly had a couple of misadventures. To say his life had been cursed by one misfortune after another wasn't inaccurate.

Yes, he felt sad for the fate that befell his mother at the hands of Kronos, yet he didn't feel saddened that she wanted him gone from her life. No one wanted to be reminded of the worst that happened to them by looking at a child: that was proof it happened.

When he told Vlad about his past the Lord Impaler focused on the life past his birth and congratulated him at becoming one of the greatest sages and teachers under the old worldview.

Arthur and Fiore were a different matter. Chiron wondered why his Master showered him with kindness and treated him like a human. She once called him her friend before apologizing and saying that she didn't feel justified in calling him that. At first her behavior was baffling and also endearing but it worried him since the girl was supposed to be a Magus.

However, the sudden humanity of his Master did not nearly surprise him as much as Saber's reaction upon learning of his legend. He didn't understand why she started to apologize, and after mentioning Uther, he slowly started to realize that the King of Knights was troubled because of her own failed fatherhood.

"You told us that you didn't know of Mordred when she told you of her heritage," he reasoned, but the Knight had looked down in defeat.

"I—I am not suited to be a father. No child should ever grow up to be like me or try to carry the burden that I put on myself," she said, slipping back into that mindset before Vlad pressured her to stop. Despite wishing for a child to grow above her now, she still regretted her past actions regarding the kin that grew up without her knowledge. Without a father to love them.

Chiron didn't know if he should tell her that she should let the past rest or not. If he had told her she would most certainly deny all of it and disappear to her Master's side. Therefore he decided to let Irisviel know of Saber's inner turmoil since the Einzbern homunculus possessed a power over the King of Knights that no other in their faction or possibly even Arthur's own court had.

However, at the moment, he was preoccupied with accompanying Fiore through the castle for the meeting regarding Grand Assassin's mission.

He pushed her wheelchair throughout the halls, noticing that the homunculi were preparing themselves for combat. All of them were coordinating through an Einzbern combat maid. In fact, each platoon he noticed had been assigned at least three maids and each of them were equipped with either a halberd or a broadsword—dwarfing them in size and enchanted to deal with Servants.

He frowned when he saw one of the homunculi hold up a flower against the light of the sun and the Master of Avicebron not far from that one, teaching some of them how to operate the golems more efficiently. The frown disappeared when he saw Roche give detailed yet simple instructions where the golems weak links were and what was necessary to guard them before Caster reconstructed a double of himself from the golem and flicked the boy's forehead.

Since when did the philosopher take an interest in humans? As artificial as the homunculi were, Chiron still saw their worth as soldiers; hence why he didn't understand why Avicebron took an interest in them and used them to make his Master more empathetic.

His musings were interrupted when he saw Berserker stand in front of them down the corridor.

Fiore greeted her with a smile and a wave before the young Servant lunged at her to envelop his Master in a tight embrace. His eyebrows rose at the sight, especially when he heard the words: "Dog…pet…sorry," muttered by the Berserker.

Fiore stiffened in the embrace, looking visibly distraught before composing herself and returning the hug.

"It's okay Frankenstein," his Master whispered, rubbing the girl's back gently.

He silently excused himself from the girls, shifting into spiritual form before reappearing around the corner where Avicebron's real body waited.

"Before you ask," the philosopher started, "it would appear Berserker dreamed of Caules's past and saw something involving Fiore."

He sighed, not liking the implication that it had.

"If that is the case then I worry." Not about the War but about the future of his Master. If Berserker picked up on something personal about his Master in Caules's dreams then it meant that his suspicions were starting to be confirmed.

"I would not worry about the child being too human to pursue the path of Magecraft." His mind halted at the philosopher's words. Had his musings been so obvious that Caster picked up on them or…?

"Is there a reason why you seem so calm about this situation, Caster? I saw you berate your own Master regarding his stiff behavior." The archer knew that he was stepping on quite a few landmines; however, Vlad wasn't the only one with a daredevil attitude regarding conversations. "It seemed to be that you were encouraging Roche to discover the joys of social interactions."

"Don't hide your jest with that smile, Chiron" the masked Servant spoke as if he could see his face.

Perhaps he could and Chiron just learned a bit more about the Servant that had been so distant to him. And while it's true that they worked rather well together in terms of understanding and the mystic arts, the sage had to admit that the philosopher terrified him. As if the facade Avicebron built was crumbling away to reveal the true beast lingering behind the mask.

Such thoughts were spurned when he saw the Kabbalist understanding the way the stone worked and imbuing it with the mysteries Vlad had asked them to include. In fact he saw Avicebron add something into the conditions for releasing the sword that had him puzzled. When asked, Caster simply waved his hand, saying that it was just precaution.

"Why are you so fixated on humans now, Avicebron?" Why did you add the phrase " _It will follow ye forth into the fated battle_ into the stone?"

"Because I want to see with my own eyes how the children I tried to nurture surpass us," was all the masked Servant said before moving his hand past him around the corner.

Confused by the action he then heard Fiore's wheelchair coming closer.

When he saw Berserker pushing his Master with a smile, he couldn't help but hold back the chuckle. Nobody was acting how they were supposed to and frankly, that was refreshing.

:: Part Chiron End ::

The assembled Masters and Servants sat within the throne room at a round table. The irony was not lost on the Once and Future King who gave the Lord Impaler a look that he waved away.

Darnic who had been uncharacteristically late, sat between the two lords though his eyes were focused on the Grand Servant that was still tended to by Angelica and Irisviel. The damaged parts of the Assassin's spiritual core were being mended by both of them while Julian reassured the allies that the blemish of this Grand Soul should remain until a more suitable time. Of course, they could heal the armored Servant with a command spell but Julian, just like Darnic, knew how important they were.

In fact, those two have had some time confiding to each other, with the younger discussing the debt the Ainsworth had with the Hashashin sect. Should they manage to garner enough wonders and make the legendary cult follow their cause then they would be more secure against the machinations of the magical society. A risk and sacrifice needed for their organization to flourish.

It was clear by Grand Assassin's report that the situation could not be more dire. The fate of Hyouma Sagara, while tragic, was within their calculations since he disappeared from his flat after being rejected. Not helping the matter was also the excommunication of Celenike which only two of the Masters and four of the Servants knew of. Had it not been for her temper and the usefulness of her crest than Darnic might have executed her himself. It was already agreed upon that Rider would be supported as an independent Servant by one of the homunculi.

"Two. Two Grand Servants," he muttered, still digesting the information. "How could that be?"

 **"Grand Berserker, Humanity's first savagery—the cavemen. It is an accumulation of several,if not all nameless spirits from the prehistoric era. Many of them are depicted in the act of slaying a phantasmal creature on the wall paintings they left behind. Its markings and body shape changed slightly when I burned it once,"** Grand Assassin explained.

Everyone at the table looked at him. He was still imposing and terrifying despite the state of his body which could only be attributed to his status as a superior Servant.

**"The other was a Grand Rider. I do not know his name nor nature though we can assume that he is a shipwright."**

"Why?" Caster asked, playing around with a lump of clay before shaping it into the form of Grand Rider as King Hassan had described him. The Grand Servant gestured at the figurine, telling the Caster to change the shape of the nose slightly. "Because the Servant was dressed in simple garbs and had pimples on his hands?"

Grand Assassin looked at his fellow Servant before presenting a piece of wood from his cloak. **"Within the fortress,something was built in an elliptic shape. The material is enchanted,sacred wood and judging by the equipment he possessed,it must have been him** **who built the constructs."**

Shipwright. Grand Servant. Sacred wood. A single name stood out among the Masters. A second among the Servants. Yet considering that those two could be interchangeable with each other might also mean that the Grand Rider might be both of them combined. A fact that was supported by the figure Caster was reconstructing which remained mostly Mesopotamian yet had Asiatic tinges in his features.

"So~ which one is it then?" Astolfo asked, looking merry as usual and shifting around on his chair. His Master didn't engage in the conversation, though from the way her eyes were bloodshot, it was safe to assume she hadn't slept or found rest. "Does it matter though? I mean, sure, they're fast and all but if the only thing they've got is a boat than—"

Grand Assassin turned his eyes to the boy who gulped and shut his mouth immediately. In a friendly tone, he asked, **"What did those boats carry?"**

It had been noted that these two had run-ins with each other on a few occasions and conversed about matters regarding Astolfo's king and the state of the old world.

The boy tilted his head. "Uhm." He looked at his Master who glared at him from the corner of her eye and sighed. "All the animals of the world in…pairs?" The moment he finished that sentence his eyes widened—and by extension: Sieg, Caules and Fiore's.

"There is no way…" Astolfo muttered but the Grand Servant simply shook his head.

"To be a Grand Servant, one must possess strengths beyond any other hero. Grand Assassin being the first Man of the Old Mountain and the Grim Reaper of the Hashashin sect and Grand Caster Solomon—the King of Magic—fit their respective classes. Therefore—" Ruler explained, eyes lingering on King Hassan. "—to think the Red Faction broke the rules regarding the summoning… If what you said is true, Grand Assassin, than the actions of the Red Faction have not only violated the rules of the Great Holy Grail War but also the rights of humanity!"

Archer placed a hand on the young maiden's shoulder, noticing her sorrow "Nobody could account for that," he said before placing both hands on the table. "We still have the problem of the other Servants on the Red Faction's side: Atalanta, one of the most well-known female archers of Greece. With her Noble Phantasm Phoebus Catastrophe, she could easily take control over the battlefield since she can decide the range of its attack.

"Karna, the son of the sun god Surya." Grand Assassin growled a little and Archer ignored it. "A legendary warrior who nearly carried his allies on his own against the Punjabas. The Berserker whom we have identified as Spartacus, is a man who might as well be the living incarnation of rebellion who revolted against his oppressors tirelessly…and Rider Achilles. I believe I don't need to tell any of you just how capable he is on his own." Archer's hands tightened, which some took note of and didn't comment on.

Except one.

"So one of your disciples decided to rain onto our parade?" Gordes said, the harsh tone of his voice, startling the younger Masters at the table while he crossed his arms in annoyance. "What else? Is fucking Heracles going to pop up from under the garden walls? If that is to be the case than you'll take care of Rider of Red since you're his teacher, right?"

 **"…"** Grand Assassin looked at the ex-Master, his eyes burning with those ethereal blue flames which immediately made the man shut up.

"Their Caster is most likely William Shakespeare," Irisviel interjected, changing the topic before the situation got any tenser. It was clear that she wanted to focus on their next course of actions though some of the others scoffed at her assumption.

"Really? William Shakespeare?" Caules started before his sister shot him a look. "It's true though. Sure, the Throne of Heroes allows anyone in who did something extraordinary but Shakespeare wasn't a spellcaster, nor were there any accounts of him being involved in the mystical arts," he explained only to become a target of Avicebron's mud.

"The same could be said about me. Though it isn't too far-fetched if you consider that Shakespeare's works had been considered magical in his times," Caster explained, seeing the boy's skepticism as he wiped mud off his glasses. "I know that this answer doesn't satisfy you but you need to be aware that the Throne chooses its heroes for how famous they are and not for the realism they are grounded by. Any legend associated with them could—even if it's unfounded rumors—could be transferred to them in form of a Noble Phantasm or something else. We should be thankful that there don't seem to be any ridiculous rumors about Shakespeare besides the once where he is accused of not writing his works himself."

 **"Either way we need to take the initiative soon,"** Grand Assassin looked at the three most prominent figures at the table, ignoring the others' arguments. **"I might'vemanaged to damage their fortress but it is unclear if they will attack tonight or the day after. Until then we have the option to fortify our stronghold or to go on the offensive and strike when they are unprepared."**

"Therein lies the problem Hassan!" Vlad yelled, stopping all discussions within the room and silence fell.

Darnic looked at his Servant in a mix of confusion and respect. The Lord Impaler stood up from his seat, staring each member of his Faction in the eyes. His gaze stopped at the Once and Future King. "Haste causes mistakes. And mistakes take lives. We gathered around this table to discuss the best path towards victory."

"Both Lancer and Rider of Red could be a challenge to you, my friend. If you should encounter either of them, then send a signal," he said before the other king's eyes stopped him. They stared at one another for what felt like hours. "I shall face Saber of Red on the fields on my own. Should the lad decide to joust with me then I can lure her towards the stone. If not, I can at least postpone her arrival and join our troops on the other enemies," Vlad declared pointing his finger at the table where countless stakes sprung forth.

From the others' viewpoint, they saw a faithful reconstruction of their castle as well as their surroundings.

"From my conversation with Saber of Red, I understand that Amakusa Shirou hides a huge amount of information. If he hasn't told Achilles or Atalanta anything yet, we can try to persuade them to our side."

A stake appeared in the middle of an empty space. "Here I shall face the child when the time is ripe. And if I am stopped at least there she will face her desire." Astolfo raised his hands. "Yes, Rider?"

"Why is it so far away from the castle?" the boy asked, many agreeing with him. "I mean, they're coming from the city, right? Why would you lure the Red's Saber so far from our territory?"

The Lord Impaler smiled. Saber and Archer immediately eyed his reaction with arched eyebrows.

"As for the battle formation—" Vlad had ignored the question, redirecting his attention to Avicebron who nodded and formed a replica of the Hanging Gardens from the leftover mud. "—while we do not know when they attack we can still plan for their arrival.

"Once the Hanging Gardens enter our domain, I want both Chiron and Arthur to lead the homunculi and golems towards their troops. Chiron, if possible, try to shoot at it from the fields farthest of our stronghold. This will divert their attention though I doubt that they would not be prepared for such a tactic. We also know for a fact that it can spawn a huge number of skull knights and considering that Grand Rider might be in possession of an Ark, it would not be odd for some Phantasmal Creatures to join their ranks."

"So we just go with the assumption that an unknown Servant can summon beasts from the Age of Gods?" Gordes chimed in. "What? Should we then expect an attack from dragons and wyverns?"

His words had the younger Masters exchanging looks. It was true that they still didn't know enough about the Grand Servants as a whole so making a battle plan from assumptions were…odd. Caules once again thought about how uncharacteristic Lancer had been acting, especially in regards to leadership.

"Arthur?" the Lord Impaler didn't answer the question and instead let his friend answer. "How do you fare with dragons?"

The King of Knights hummed at the question. "There are some accounts in my legend of having slain and hunting them. It would be difficult to deal with that threat though if Lancer or Rider of Red appeared as opposition. Otherwise—" she crossed her arms. "—Rider, if possible, I would like your assistance should such a situation arise."

Her fellow English noble looked at her in confusion. "Sure can do but why me?" he started to scratch the back of his head. "I mean I got kicked around by Achilles like I was nothing and I doubt that I'd be able to help you with dragons." Humbleness aside, nobody in the room was blind enough not to see the excitement of the Paladin.

"Your Hippogriff shall be my transportation," The knight deadpanned at which Rider deflated and let his head hang before agreeing to help out with a thumbs up.

Celenike had been absent from that exchange silently, staring at the Einzbern homunculus across from her.

Saber turned her attention to Archer who looked torn for a moment. "I assume you intent to face Achilles on your own after all?"

Startled by her question, Archer looked looked to the side, eyeing Fiore, going back to the knight. There were still many things he wanted to do and say. Many he knew where unfounded and unreasonable.

"Among us, I am probably the only one who can," he admitted, steeling his resolution. "I have to admit that using his weakness against him is cruel but it needs to be done. I can keep him busy for the duration of the assault should it come to it, but I doubt that he will change sides. His lust for battle is nearly unrivaled."

"Then take charge of the golem troops," Lancer said giving the sage a smile. "Secure yourself a position that makes it difficult for the other Faction to reach you and have a teacher-to-student conversation that shakes the grounds and reaches the heavens." That made the Archer laugh. "If such a situation should arise be sure to signal us so we can keep the enemy away from your conversation."

Berserker gave Caster a look.

:: Part Conference End ::

He noticed Berserker starring at him. Avicebron knew what she wanted him to address. Why she was starring in the first place but now wasn't the most opportune moment.

"Gordes," Vlad addressed the ex-Master with a raised eyebrow, fully understanding that what he was about to ask might seem ridiculous but Avicebron had specifically asked that off the Lord Impaler and he knew that the man cherished any moment they had together to gauge each other. "I want you to be ready to take care of all the homunculi that have been injured once the battle starts. They are an important asset and we can not let them fall into the hands of the Red Faction."

"Wha—why should I take care of expendable to—" a stake appeared millimeters away from the large man's nether regions. Just like Darnic before, he paled at the threat and immediately shut his mouth. The Lord Impaler could have let this slip by and be done with it but instead he addressed Gordes' rebuttal with the one thing that Avicebron made him aware of.

"Did you forget that the Red Faction mostly consists of Heroic Spirits associated with rebellion? Not one but two spirits of rebellion have been summoned by them who could very well cause our Faction to crumble." Vlad's eyes searched for his' and Avicebron nodded. "Spartacus and Mordred. One the hero of the oppressed, the other a homunculus. Both of them embody the human spirit of rebellion and will use the way we treat the homunculi as an excuse to either come at us directly or refuse our cause outright."

A valid reason. Enough to shut the mouths of the purists that saw homunculi as lesser beings despite being superior to humans in so many ways. Just like that girl looking at him with her mismatched eyes.

Avicebron had been called many things in his life. Many more after he disappeared and died but now that he was confronted by artificial beings that act more how he prayed humans to act like, how could he not change his thoughts a little regarding this matter?

He raised his hand, letting the statue of the Grand Rider he made float and drop above the table.

"Ruler, is it safe to assume that you will join us in regards to the Red Faction?" It wasn't a gamble. He saw the reaction of this young woman, saw her nod at Vlad's speech regarding homunculi, and he saw the way she tightened her fists when Grand Assassin reported his findings.

"Of course," she said looking at him with clear eyes, the fury buried within them burned like the sun and yet he found no hatred within them. "The Red Faction has violated this War in so many manners already. Not to mention that they threaten the lives of the innocent. I feel honored that the Black Faction will allow me to take part in its meetings and so, I will help you to the best of my abilities as a Ruler."

Terrific. Even if the Red Faction sent out its Grand Servants at them, the chances for them to survive the next battle rose if Ruler aided them. The problems lies elsewhere, though.

"One of us is too weak."

Avicebron turned his head, meeting Berserker's eyes.

He knew.

She knew.

The others knew, yet did not acknowledge that fact. A tense aura filled the air within the throne room. Heavy and filled with purpose. The philosopher met the eyes of the two monarchs residing side by side, both of them staring at him, daring Avicebron to speak his mind.

He did not fear them. "I would like permission to work on Frankenstein's frame. I noticed blemishes in her construction and I intend to make her at least capable enough to use Blasted Tree's full potential."

"Caster," Saber warmed with a glare. She had been fond of Berserker for the same reason as many others in their faction—especially Vlad, whom Avicebron assumed, took to be a father figure for the girl—and he could honestly see why.

"That is not for you to decide," Vlad added; their combined intimidation was indeed enough to at least make the Masters consider a change of their lower attire. "Either she or her Master have to make that decision and if I remember correctly, you weren't the best with machines."

"The alterations I would make would be minuscule at best and simply improve her combat capabilities for the duration of the battles. If we don't, then the chances for her survival would lower the longer the War went on. All of you know just how dangerous the Red Faction is. Their weakest members are already stronger than Berserker, Rider and I." he heard a "Hey!" from Rider but dismissed it. "And the only ones who could fight against them efficiently are yourself, Saber, Grand Assassin, Ruler and Chiron. Not to mention that the plans you proposed, Vlad, have been little more than gambles."

The Lord Impaler looked at him. "Tell me, Solomon. What have I lacked in life?"

"Loyal soldiers and commanders that could support you." The answer Lancer wanted to hear. He knew what that meant. He knew why Vlad had brought up plans like a gambler, because he was.

If he remembered the texts he read lately, Mehmed II once said, had Vlad more loyal soldiers then he might have conquered the world. This was a military leader ready to sacrifice sanity for daredevil tactics that could have been considered legendary had it not been for the cowardice of his men and the fear they felt towards their enemies overwhelming numbers. Charging with an army of less then ten thousand against a horde of hundred thousand and above and succeeding in terrifying them, was no small accomplishment.

It was one of the reasons he didn't argue with this man who carried himself like a demon.

"The choice was already made," Avicebron said making the two kings look at Berserker. The girl nodded at both of them while their eyes widened.

Saber stood up and worriedly proclaimed that the girl couldn't be serious.

"I…too…fight…" the girl said.

With that the King of Knights reseated herself, unable to continue the conversation. Once the table calmed down and another tactic was argued about, Solomon looked to his side and saw the girl smiling at him with a nod. Had his eyes been visible one might have seen how wide they opened. A smile formed on his lips as he started to reevaluate his lives choices once more.

:: Part Avicebron End ::

When the meeting was over, Berserker joined Arthur's side. The King had been sad when she told them about the plan. But Frankenstein knew that it was necessary. She was an artificial creation. All the others were heroes. Were human. She understood better than anyone what that meant.

Arthur looked at her and asked why she choose to undergo this change.

She tilted her head. Sometimes she regretted being unable to talk with others. She could think and feel alright but if it came to speaking, her class and the [Madness Enhancement] kept her from forming real words. One of the reasons she was so fond of the Pendragons was that they could understand her. And she really wanted to met Arthur's son again. To understand why they too hated their father.

She grunted, knowing well that the king would understand her, telling her that she knows that she's weaker than the others and that she might be a damsel if she couldn't fight like them.

Arthur was nice and told her that Frankenstein was fine the way she was, that she didn't need to change for anybodies sake.

"Groo—wwth," she told the knight and saw those forest-green eyes open wider. Like little emeralds, those eyes shone with a light she never saw in her own life. The doctor's never shone, never smiled at her after she was born and the only thing he gave her were more hits and bruises.

She wanted to be stronger, for herself. If she could make the King understand her than that meant she could fight with them without making them worry. Frankenstein then put her arms around Arthur grunting a couple more words. The blonde shook her head and returned the embrace.

"If that is truly what you wish for, then who am I to keep you from it?" the knight said when releasing her. "Just know that should something happen, then I will be beside you."

She smiled at the kindness. Arthur smelled like warm bread. Frankenstein thought before stepping aside and getting glomped by Irisviel.

"Fran-chan!" the white lady said with a smile. Berserker blushed, since she got to know this woman; her heart had been beating faster and she felt safe and secure. "Do you want to join us for tea later?" Irisviel asked, keeping her in arms length smiling that radiant smile.

Without really knowing why she smiled and nodded before looking down. These two have always been nice to her. But she didn't know why. Arthur was the biggest mystery since she never once said anything mean to Frankenstein, not even to scold her. And Arthur always gave her some time, if she wanted to talk or just be close to the king.

Frankenstein didn't know why she thought that, but Vlad and Arthur were like warmer and gentler versions of _Father_. They protected her and they were always honest with the things they told her about. And while she found Vlad a little bit more fatherly, she liked Arthur's stories about knights and princesses more exciting.

Once Arthur seemed lost in thought and told her about her sister Morgan and the child. Frankenstein wondered if Arthur hated the kid or if the king was just embarrassed…or she was like father—afraid. But Arthur wasn't like _Father_ and she wanted to let that child know that too!

:: Part Berserker II End ::

Achilles was bored.

Being on the lookout for the Black Faction was not interesting.

He had opted to meditate or train with his spear. From the corner of his eye he saw Karna still sitting against that tree. Aside from their earlier conversation, he wasn't entirely sure how to assess his fellow hero. For someone fabled to possess a tongue as sharp as spears and arrows the man truly presented himself more in deep thought than harsh rebuttals.

 _Rider, can you hear me?_ Came the telepathic voice of Shirou Kotomine. He could pretty much guess what the priest wanted from him now. Still, just like Karna, the priest had retreated into himself ever since they encountered each other which made him truly hard to read.

Achilles gave his okay, waiting for Kotomine to explain why he called in the first place.

_Our plans have been slightly altered due to unforeseen circumstances._

_Unforeseen circumstances,huh?_ A playful smile formed when he heard that.

 _What? Did an enemy Servant infiltrate our base or something?_ He asked in jest. The other line had been silent for a moment which made him worry.

 _That is exactly what happened._ Achilles' eyes widened. _Do not worry though;they might have caused a moderate amount of damage to the fortress but they didn't accomplish whatever they came for. I still want you to look out for their Assassin._ Kotomine went silent again, which gave Rider time to think.

If the enemy's Assassin managed to damage their fortress, then it meant they were more powerful than what is usually expected of the Assassin-class. A smile formed on his lips at the prospect of fighting such a foe.

 _However,that isn't why I called you._ He arched an eyebrow. _We will launch a frontal attack against the enemy. The reason for that are the two objectives that we absolutely need to accomplish._

When he heard the plan, Achilles had to wonder just what was going through their leader's mind. Sure, it sounded exciting and would be a good exercise to prepare himself for his fight with any of those powerful Servants but why were those two objectives that important?

He asked Lancer of Red for his opinion on the matter, knowing that he had heard the briefing. "Either of us should be more than enough to accomplish that," he said, not even opening his eyes. "But we should be aware that we do not underestimate the enemy. Saber of Black had proven to be a worthy foe so at least leave her to fight with me."

"Hu hu~ sounds like somebody has a cru—" Achilles quickly found out that having an Indian legend stare at him with what seemed to be a Noble Phantasm lodged into his eye wasn't the best idea. Right now, he was only going to tease the normally stoic Servant but being stared at with an eye that could shoot laser-beams made him reconsider that notion. "Uhm, is there a reason why you're glaring at me with that eye of yours?"

"If we are to assault the Black Faction's castle, then we have to cause chaos among their ranks," he said as if to explain why his eagerness to fight the Once and Future King was showing. He couldn't blame his fellow hero. The prospect at encountering a rival that excited you enough to go all out was both thrilling and rewarding and he'd feel bad if Achilles managed to find the King before their confrontation.

"So basically we cause a diversion with one or both of us keeping their attention while Archer or Saber come to get our objectives." He stood tall, looking into the sky and searching for the moon, hidden by the heavens' sunlight.

Well. If they were going on a hunt, why not get the blessing of the goddess of the hunt?

_Sis, how about you ask Artemis to give us her blessing for the next battle?_

_What are you talking about?_ She shot back. He raised his eyebrows at Atalanta's grumpiness and why it seemed like she was arguing with somebody. _Sorry about that but someone here apparently doesn't know what a bath is!_

_You can't make me!_

A voice screamed from the other side and Achilles had to hold his ear, wincing. Despite the impossibility of that happening, it felt like somebody just yelled into it. Which was hilarious since he didn't think Atalanta would try to tame the knight.

 _Is it a bad time?_ He asked, not entirely sure if Big Sis had heard the plan for tonight.

 _Not really, just a tantrum_ , she answered. _I told her sleeping in a tomb isn't hygienic and made both of them take a bath to get the stench of death away. You know the Fates; I will not risk anyone falling into their bad grace._

A small laugh escaped his mouth.

 _Have you heard of our plans?_ He asked despite hearing more insults and swears thrown by their Saber. He could sympathize somewhat. Nobody liked being treated like a kid and being forced to take a bat— _wait,both of them?_

 _Yes, although her Master at least had the decency to rent a room and take a bath there. As long as it's day we can feel a bit more secure even if we are close to the enemy,_ Atalanta explained and judging by the tone, he was certain that she enjoyed whatever she was doing—he held back a laugh when he heard Saber complain about Big Sis washing her hair. _And I had the priest send a message to Saber's Master regarding an assault on the Black Faction_ , altho _ugh I am not sure why he immediately declined_ , Atalanta answered before another complaint flew towards her.

 _Wait_ — _he declined?!_ He really felt like this whole situation was nothing more than a comedy. Surely Caster would enjoy this kind of interaction between them. Though from his first impression he could already tell that he liked the Saber-duo. It wasn't everyday he heard of people that are as theatrical as him when it comes to warfare and now he really wondered what they looked like.

 _Yes,he did.Saber told him the plan wouldn't work and they declined right away._ He heard a not-so-subtle _"No way we'll follow along with what that fake priest wants!"_ from the background and chuckled at that outburst. _You seem to be enjoying yourself._

 _Sorry 'bout that, did Saber tell you why it wouldn't work?_ He really wanted to met and talk with that lad. There was no way he would stay satisfied in this war if he didn't encounter the Red Faction's Saber.

 _Would you like to talk with her?_ The question sounded innocent but he heard Atalanta's skepticism from miles away. A large smile formed and he seriously wondered what he did in his past life to not only encounter the fabled Argonaut but so many other interesting characters in this new one— oh wait, he became a legend already!

 _What!_ He heard the voice that's been going off in the background directly speaking to him and Atalanta. _You want to know why that fake priest's plan wouldn't work? Do I really have to spell it out to you?_ He heard a tired sigh, something he himself did whenever he was talking to idiots which made this even more hilarious. _Alright, listen up:the reason it won't work is Vlad the Impaler._

Achilles, and by extension, Karna sat up straight—he took note that Lancer had been listening to their conversation though the narrowing of his eyes confirmed that his fellow hero had a similar train of thought.

 _What do you mean?_ There was no way a single Servant could change the course of this war. Even he couldn't win this war on his own—though he liked to imagine he could. Especially considering that there are more than twice the amount of Servants involved.

The hero of the Iliad heard the child sigh again.

 _That damn vampire isn't stupid. He could fight me and I'm the strongest Servant in this War—_ that was debatable _—but if I had to be honest…he knows what his weaknesses are. He is the kind of knight that knows where all the weak parts of his armor are and lures his enemy directly into them to rip them into pieces._

A brow rose high—it was Karna's and Achilles had to stifle his surprise when he saw it—at the allegory the child used to describe the Lord Impaler. Sure, that Servant was among the Knight-classes but it didn't mean he coul—

_He probably already knows that we're going to strike tonight._

—Alright. He shut his mouth.

 _How can you be so sure about that?_ Atalanta asked in a strange tone. He couldn't put his finger on it but from the way Sis spoke, it was something foreboding which worried him.

 _Because that's what I would think._ His eyes widened at the tone she spoke.

 _What did you see during your confrontation with the Lord Impaler?_ Karna asked out of the blue. Literally. Achilles never saw the expression his fellow demigod had before. It was one of caution and curiosity while his eyes held a gleam he couldn't really perceive. _What was it that made you think like him?_

The pause that followed said more than any word or rebuttal ever could.

When she continued, she gave them a brief summary on how Vlad fought and lured her while breaking her expectations left and right. A savage. That was the picture slowly forming in his head and he couldn't help the excitement pumping through his veins at the prospect of fighting Lancer of Black.

 _By the way, I don't trust that fake priest and his Servant at all!_ Oh, how he agreed to that so much. He kept too much information to himself. _We know that some Servant came and attacked that base of theirs right?Then how the fuck did they get rid of them? I know neither of you were at the base and that Berserker went somewhere who-knows-where which meant that witch of his and Caster were the only ones there,right? Something doesn't make sense here._

She had a point.

_Which means whatever he wants us to get out of that fortress has to be damn important. Just nuke it. Do we even know where those things are?_

_Nope,_ was all he needed to say for her to groan: she even grunted but that was probably because Atalanta used this opportunity to wash her some more. _But we do know that we've got to get them out until we can launch a larger attack at them. Sure,me and Lancer could just end this war on our own bu—_

_Continue thinking like that and that vampire's stakes will be up your ass faster than Archer's arrows. An Archer you don't know managed to chip that immortal body of yours,right? At least we know who their weakest Servant is. Anyway,just nuke their basement,get out of there,and let one of the priest's Servants get either of those things out of Vlad's castle. The faster you're out,the less time he has to find more of your weaknesses._

_You seem to hold Lancer of Black in high esteem._ Karna, for the first time he met him, showed the sharpness of his tongue which made Achilles look at him with wide eyes. What Lancer said was exactly what someone like Saber did not need to hear right now. But why the basement?

Thankfully, Saber of Red didn't burst into anger but he could practically feel the rage oozing into their telepathic link.

 _Let's say we think similar and leave it at that._ How civil. _Anyway—any knight knows that the loot we want to keep to ourselves is hidden in the basement,or if it goes further down:the bottom of the dungeon. Whatever Kotomine wants will probably be there, so let's bust that vault open with some castle-destroying Noble Phantasm you've gotand get the stuff we need._ A pause. _While we're at it,we might as well reduce the enemy'sranks._

 _We? So you're going to join our assault?_ Atalanta sounded hesitant, which made him wonder how much Big Sis already knew of this Saber. Maybe she wasn't a team player?

_More or less. I'm just in for it to behead that vampire. Everything else you can handle on your own._

Achilles seriously had to smile at the Saber, even though they haven't met. He could already tell that she carried herself the same way many of his fellow warriors did. Which suited him just right!

Going to war with a hothead who had two working brain cells was way more fun than following a woman-stealing moron who couldn't take care of his own army without the help of him and the gods.

:: Part Achilles II End ::

He was standing on the balcony of the Einzbern barracks. Most homunculi were allowed to come and go within the estranged family's housing, possibly as a show of good faith or because all of them were so very familiar.

Sieg had been training on his own under the ever-blue sky. The frustration he felt when fighting Berserker of Red was still coursing through his veins, though he found it within himself to rest. Sword driven into the ground, he held onto it, stabilizing his frame while he tried to find his breath. He already knew that Toole was approaching him from behind and relaxed his stance.

She stepped beside him, offering Sieg a hand. It took him a moment to realize that she held a towel out to him which he took gently.

"Have they decided already?" he asked.

His fellow homunculus shook her head. Toole was one of the first to receive a name after Gordes was reprimanded by Lady Irisviel. Though the name was simplistic, his fellow homunculus accepted the name and started to act like a personal messenger between the homunculi under Gordes and the Einzbern.

"It is still unclear when we can expect the next development. Although they told us to keep watch over our sister." "They" referred to the Servants Lancer and Caster of Black. Saber had been too involved with them for any of the homunculi not to refer to them by title and name when talked to or about. "Lady Irisviel—"

"We shall guard them," he interrupted, staring at the horizon. "That is the duty bestowed upon us for as long as we are under Yggdmilliennia." He steadied himself, knowing his oaths. "Have a battalion prepared to guard the lower floors. If the enemy wants to fight then I shall meet them above ground. Should anything happen, contact Irisviel or Caster and keep a look out. Archer told me that one needs to have a higher view of the battlefield; therefore we should deploy a number of familiars in the air, preferably birds."

Toole nodded at his instructions. "Do you think they know?"

Sieg didn't look at her. He remained stoic, knowing full well what she meant but that wasn't a matter to be discussed openly. Whatever that white figure meant was still too unclear and they couldn't risk their freedom for that.

"For now we have to uphold our oaths. I can't support any of us if I break a single one," he said finally before Toole nodded and excused herself.

He steeled his resolve once more. He felt strangely serene, despite the fear building up within him. Had he not fought Berserker and Rider of Red he wouldn't feel as prepared as he was now.

Sieg looked up again, watching the clouds dance in the winds of Wallachia. For a while now he felt the need to watch them drift—watch the various shapes and hues of blue and white and ask himself if he could rise into the sky himself. Was it a wish? A dream? A desire he never thought of before.

Was this what it meant to be thrust greatness onto?

::: Part homunculus I End :::

_"Say, why do you people stink of recent loss?"_

_"Dude, seriously? Is that any way to talk with people. Any while we're at it, why is the loli-granny over there staring at me as if I'm out of my mind? I get it,I'm a sight to behold for some,but I am not interested in getting arrested for false charges."_

Ritsuka — "Uhm, it's because of what you said earlier. Also, is all of that on the screen happening in real time or…?"

Mashu — "S-senpai. I am not sure that is the correct thing to ask either."

Caster — "The Mahatma haven't told me anything about what you spoke of! There is no way any of that could be true, you brat!"

Mashu — "Caster…"

_"Mash's got it hard."_

_"Wasn't it just Mashu? Translations from fanboys should never be trusted—especially Nasu's own!"_

_"You're still hung up on that whole Altria/Arturia thing aren't you?"_

_"Of course I am! Never trust an author that doesn't manage to translate his work correctly!"_

_"Is that the reason why you won't publish anything in Japanese? Because you still can't mange to speak or write Katakana?"_

_"Just to be clear,I am not an author self-insert."_

**"Why are you telling them that? And why have you let go of your earlier question already?"**

Ritsuka — "To be honest I don't really know how to communicate with either of you either. And to answer your question, I don't really know whom you are talking about?"

_"Thanks for the honesty,but that isn't what I was going on about. You smell of tragedy but most people I encounter who happen to be protagonists or antagonists do—that's nothing special. I was talking about the recent stench of regret that's wafting around you, as if you lost someone who was important and unimportant at the same time."_

Ritsuka — "…"

Mashu — "Senpai…"

**"Wow. You hit the nail and forced it into the lowest and most useless part of the board imaginable."**

_"Oh,shut it!"_

Ritsuka — "We, when I started at Chaldea something big happened and the director…"

Mashu — "Senpai…"

_"…"_

**"…Don't get any ideas."**

_"Can't promise that. Although I promise not to do anything for this story."_

_"Good enough for me."_

::: TBC :::

_A/N: Alright! Newest chapter and newest development! Hope y'all liked this chapter 'cause it was a bitch after the halfway point! I nearly finished the entire thing within a week but nope writers block happened just after the Avicebron part and I had to write bits and pieces eventually!_

_Anywho I hope this chapter was a nice little breather because the next one is the real deal, where shit hits the fan and splashes it across the room -it is not as gross as it sounds – there are still four or five chapters to go for the halfway point so I hope you're sticking with me until Fate Alliances is finished ^^_

_Also this chapter marks the first time chapter name and draft name are the same "Greatness" guess what it means if you wanna analyze this chapter ^^_

King0fP0wers \- Glad I managed to subvert your fears ^^ And I'm happy that you seem to enjoy the route I'm taking for this stor! Buckle up for whatever happens next will be even more "interesting" ^^

Guest I knew that that critic was going to come but at least I haven't turned you off the story! I'm glad that you're looking forward to what'll happen in the upcoming battles and thanks for the heads up ^^

miguelgiuliano . co \- I don't really care what lore Nasu made up but if it elevates your worries let's say the pieces of Caliburn were gathered from the remains of Galantine, besides that I can't really answer your questions since I don't care for Gawain in Fate (The actually only thing he is known for irl myths is that he fought a green knight ...nothing else really until the fated battles on the hills) Besides that for the review ^^

Apache27\- and I'm very happy that you are enjoying it! Thank you for your review and kind words and I hope that this story will continue to entertain you!

And Once Again! Thanks to my Beta Emirian for making this mess that is my writing and making it awesome! Check out their stories when you got time ^^

 

 


	8. Does

**::: Thou must've know thyself :::**

The church was quiet. Barely any light glimmered through a window above the altar.

Jeanne sat beside the Lord Impaler, praying, as they were taught by the Lord's teaching. Had anyone told her that she'd be sitting next to the tyrannical ruler of Wallachia, she wouldn't know what to think of them. But after getting to know him, she understood the degree of his devotion.

There were legends of this man. A leader who answered the calls of the church to stop invading armies from reaching the settlements of Christians. A man who respected the beliefs of others yet committed cruelties beyond human reason upon them. The man who devoted all his times and efforts to slay as many enemies of the state and the Church as he could but showed mercy and kindness to those willing to convert and the oppressed.

She knew of the cruelties he committed—she prayed for his forgiveness for he too seemed to have heard the screams of the innocents in their time of need. Only he chose to act like the devil incarnate to save them.

He revered her, respected her perspective before explaining his own.

The reason why they sat in the church during an afternoon sermon was simple. Both of them were still devoted. And though they differed on giving mercy, they still shared the same belief. And it had been so very long since she last sat in a church and listened to the words of a priest; so how could she say no to Vlad's invitation to visit one? It made her happy that the teachings of Christ continued to be taught to this day, that the messages of kindness, forgiveness and love survived to modern times.

When the priest finished, she repeated after him like so many others. The two of them got up from their seats and joined the other visitors, engaging in friendly conversation. A smile spread whenever some of the children looked at her or when one of them got closer and told her she was pretty.

From the corner of her eye she saw Vlad talking with the adults about history and current politics. But her attention was always stolen by another child who wanted to learn more about her.

She asked Laeticia if she wanted to say a few words herself but the young maiden was simply happy that Jeanne was enjoying herself.

One of the children took her hand. It was a young girl with teal-colored hair—such an unique and pretty shade—leading her towards a larger group of children. When asked why the child was leading her that way the girl said that she wanted Jeanne to met another pretty lady. Confused by those words, she nonetheless smiled and followed.

A beautiful voice from within the crowd stopped them in their tracks.

A song of sorrow and adventure, sang by a beautiful woman dressed in a simple light green dress with leggings. Her eyes closed, she kept singing, entrancing the children around her and filling their heads with adventures of the sea and foreign lands. A dream long gone, yet still in the hearts of those that sought greater things in their lives.

When Jeanne approached the woman, her eyes opened, revealing green irises. They kept eye contact, already knowing each other's identities. Although Jeanne wondered how the other woman managed to hide her animalistic features. It must've had something to do with that jewel around her neck.

The children were playing with each other, some trying to sing the song from before and failing and others enacting adventures on a boat.

Out of modesty Jeanne sat herself beside Archer of Red—Atalanta—and watched the children play. How long had it been when she was one of them? A smile formed as she remembered the times long gone.

"Are you Ruler?" Atalanta asked after a few moments, probably when she noticed that the children weren't listening to her any longer.

Jeanne nodded, smiling at the archer, known as the fastest of the Argonauts. The Servant returned her smile, visibly relaxing; she must have been on edge the entire time.

Vlad was still talking to some of the older members of the community.

"To be honest, I didn't think that this man could have that kind of expression," Atalanta said and Jeanne chuckled at those words, for she too didn't think that a man with his reputation could smile so kindly. Or forgiving of children tugging or laughing at his formal clothing.

"I know. You should have seen my expression when I saw Lancer take care of Berserker as if she was his daughter," Jeanne admitted before her attention was dragged to another man hiding behind a larger group. Shishigou Kairi was slowly making his way over to them. "Is Saber of Red here as well?"

"Saber is…no, not really. She said social gatherings weren't her forte," Atalanta said, shaking her head at Kairi who stopped to requisition food from the nearest table. "Is it normal for the new religions to make festivities like this?"

The saint blinked. "Today apparently is a special day. But if I had to answer your question—where I'm from, some churches did indeed hand out food and beverages to those who didn't have anything."

They watched the people talk and rejoice with another.

"Although I can only speak for Christianity," Jeanne added with a soft but awkward smile.

Atalanta hummed at those words, eyes slightly unfocused, before turning to her again.

"Have you officially joined the Black Faction now?" Her eyes weren't accusing, just inquisitive.

Jeanne closed hers, sighing and straightened her posture. Her hands tightened on her lap. When she opened her eyes, she looked into Atalanta's expectant gaze.

"It was an act of necessity, one I had to contemplate for a long time if I am being honest," the saint explained, waiting for the Archer to say something but nothing followed. "I was notified that the Red Faction was housing the Ruler-class Servant from the Third Grail War. Despite how it sounds, I can verify that it is indeed a possibility since I was supposed to be 'summoned' into this era."

She watched Atalanta's eyebrow rise for a moment before her eyes widened completely.

"Then that body…"

Jeanne nodded.

Atalanta bit her lip.

"So you're saying that you couldn't be summoned correctly and that you had to possess that girl's body?" There was an accusatory tone in the Argonaut's voice, one she could understand as she—per her Class's special characteristic—knew of Atalanta's background. The gist of it, at least.

Jeanne winced as Laeticia took the reins in defense of her, surprising the two Servants.

"Please don't blame her—she asked me if she could borrow my body for a bit and I let her out of my own free will!" Laeticia implored. "The Holy Maiden didn't know any other way and if the Lord allowed her to be brought back into this world through me, then I am completely willing. So I beg of you not to judge her for a decision that was forced onto her.

She sighed in relief when given back control, Laeticia murmuring an apology.

"…" Atalanta stared at her for a good moment, studying both Laeticia and Jeanne. "I see. So you didn't force yourself into her and you aren't suppressing her spirit either." The Argonaut leaned back to watch the children around them instead of Jeanne. "I guess this means you aren't lying about that priest either."

Jeanne perked up when she heard the last part.

"You're right. Two other Servants and I have been suspecting the priest for a while now. We haven't met, nor seen, our Masters either and he simply told us that they left command to him." Atalanta's words rang with barely suppressed rage, staring in the general direction of the Red Faction's fortress. "We know that at least two of the Red Faction's Servants are at his beck and call. But they haven't given us a reason to betray them yet."

That was Atalanta's way of telling Jeanne that the Red Faction's Servant, while suspicious of Amakusa's actions, will not betray them until further provocation. The saint sighed, understanding where the archer was coming from.

"I guess I can't convince you to leave the Red Faction for the time being?" she asked hopefully, at which the Argonaut raised an eyebrow and smiled defiantly. "At least nobody can say that I hadn't tried," she muttered before curiosity took her over. "How about a change of topic then—your choice of clothing is very nice."

Atalanta looked surprised briefly before smiling.

"Oh these? Kairi bought them for me when he and Saber dragged me out into the city." she said, making Jeanne laugh. "I guess he enchanted them or this jewel here, so my ears and tail wouldn't show. It has been a while since I had last seen myself look truly human."

"—ears!" An excited Laeticia overwhelmed Jeanne.

_Oh no!_

"Does this mean you have fluffy ears?!"

_Laeticia, please._

"Do you mind showing them to me?"

 _Get a grip young lady, please do not embarrass us!_ Laeticia was still a young girl at heart. Born and raised with kindness and love, as well as a little bit of childishness, the saint couldn't hold it against the girl if she desired certain things. Namely sweets and cute animals.

Atalanta smirked at the girl's words, laughing softly.

"I guess having two souls in one body can lead to some confusion, huh?" the Argonaut jested making both Jeanne and Laeticia blush.

"Please forgive me." Laeticia bowed.

Instead of receiving an answer, a soft tap on her head was all she felt. It took a second to realize that Atalanta was patting them. A soft blush spread across their cheeks when they looked up and met the Argonaut's eyes. Those evergreen eyes so very similar to a cat's, but also hid the ferociousness of a lion.

"You are right. Having two souls in one body can be—" _embarrassing,_ "—difficult but it is also so very rewarding. Especially since Laeticia is a young maiden who enjoys an education, something I never received so learning about mathematics and literature—even if I understand nothing—is very fascinating." Jeanne smiled when she recounted the time she needed to finish Laeticia's homework on the truck they traveled on and how she didn't understand anything.

"I can't say I did either, considering I was raised by a bear, but I guess I never needed to," Atalanta joked. "Maybe I'll show you how I really look like when we meet on the battlefield." the Argonaut smiled, flicking her human ears

 _You can do that!?_ Laeticia squealed and Jeanne justifiably suppressed.

"I hope that it doesn't come to that," the saint said before her eyes met Shishigou Kairi's sunglasses. He carried a tray with three plates filled to the brim over to her and Atalanta though it made her question why he choose to wear a suit instead of the "rocker" outfit Vlad told her about.

"I heard some of what you just said," The Master admitted while a little ear-like apparatus crawled up his chest and fell into the breast pocket. A sight that would have made her scream in disgust hadn't she been informed on this man's magecraft. "I guess that means your body can still get hungry right?" He held the tray out to them.

Right on cue, she heard a lion's rumbling. She and Kairi slowly turned to the lioness who licked her lips once before taking the tray and eating most of one of the plates almost immediately.

"Uhm..." she began before the eyes of a predator fell onto her.

"Have you ever been stuck on a boat with muscleheads who ate their own weight per day? Food is scarce and sacred," Atalanta said while stuffing her mouth with food in a surprisingly civilized manner. What surprised her however was the laughter she heard from Kairi.

"At least you're not eating like a hungry lion." the Argonaut narrowed her eyes. "Saber has been eating so much lately that I'm considering transferring most of my savings just to feed her," he joked, or at least Jeanne hoped he did because if the Son of King Arthur had as much an appetite as her father than she truly had to speak out her condolences.

Atalanta's stare softened.

"You were just thinking like father, like son, right?" She quipped, nearly causing Jeanne to jump off the bench they sat on. She looked at the Argonaut with unsure eyes. "It's the look you had. I've seen that look a good number of times throughout my journey on the Argo. Which means you truly did summon Saber's father."

Kairi looked at her in baffled silence.

Jeanne didn't release the building sigh. Something in that line of questioning was off.

"Have you not told them?" Laeticia asked when Jeanne couldn't find the words to, eyeing an equally serious Kairi. It was a blessing that this child understood her heart and Jeanne thanked the lord that she was able to meet this young maiden.

"…"

"…"

Neither answered. And if she was honest, she didn't know if she wanted them to.

The child of King Arthur—Mordred. The bastard that gathered the enemies of his father and destroyed everything the Once and Future King built and caused a mutual kill. From the way both of them remained silent, she understood. Neither wanted the rejected child to kill their own kin again.

"I will try to make them avoid each other for the time being," she muttered, causing both of them to look at her "But that is only a short hand solution. Eventually they have to face each other—"

"—and preferably as father and son." All three of them stilled immediately looking at the Lord Impaler as he strode towards them. "I will take a short walk Ruler—you may speak with the Red Faction until I return." He walked past them to the exit of the church's property.

+++ ::: +++

It was a good minute or two away from the trio. Clearly out of earshot, even for Servants. When the Lord Impaler passed the gates, into the streets, he stopped and addressed the one leaning against the wall.

"I didn't pick you to be a religious one."

"Didn't pick you as one either, but that ain't why I'm here." Mordred looked at him with both animosity and calmness at which the Lord of Wallachia scoffed.

"Took you long enough, you unruly brat."

"Shut it. Scrawny old man."

Both of them walked past the church's walls, slowly going up a little slope that had a better overview of the surrounding fields. Neither of them spoke nor acted in a way that could be described as aggression.

They simply took a walk.

They looked upon the fields after reaching the hilltop. It was unattended farmland filled with weed and countless critters singing and colonizing the lands. Beyond these field lay the cultivated farms, manned by the village.

"This patch of land belonged to a farmer who couldn't attend to it any longer due to his age and he couldn't find a buyer," Vlad explained. "And over those mountains, raiders used to invade these lands. ...back then."

"So you officially got Ruler on your side, huh?" Mordred said, ignoring his tales which earned another scoff. "So which member of the Round Table did you summon?"

An eyebrow rose at her question, although she interrupted him before he could answer.

"Don't take me for a fool. I already noticed that our Archer didn't say anything—probably something sentimental and I bet it's got something to do with that one of yours. Who is it? Is it Tristan, that sleepy-head? That blockhead Gawain? Mr. I-Fucked-The-King's-Wife Lancelot? Or—oh, please tell me it's Merlin!"

The Lord Impaler looked at the Knight of Treachery with raised eyebrows and a half-smile.

"I do not know of a single being who would rejoice at the possibility of facing Merlin. You are either insane or you hold a serious grudge against him," Vlad said, amused.

"Well, duh!" Mordred rolled her eyes "Of course I would! That bastard always smelled viler than my mother and always made the life of us knights more complicated than necessary! I mean the last thing that idiot did was get seduced and put into a fucking tower!" The knight finished, laughing uproariously, although her eyes held a hidden edge.

"…" Vlad remained still for a moment, wondering if he should or not but something within told him this was his only chance. "Let me be frank: why did you come here? Why did you come to a church at the outskirts of the city so close to our castle knowing I could be there?"

"I had no reason," The knight answered immediately. "I did what I always do. I acted on instinct, nothing more to that. I already know that you have something planned for me and let me crush your hopes right here and now." She looked him dead in the eye, giving him a look he had wished to forget. "No matter who I face, be it a Knight of the Round table or anybody I will face them and I'll behead them."

Was this how his brother felt when he himself uttered those words, knowing that those in their homelands were nothing more than hostages and acted out on fear and not disloyalty? Was this the demon that people saw when they laid eyes on him? If that was the case, then he knew what he needed to do.

"Very well, but I feel that you wanted to ask me something else," he said with his breath even and his head held high.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll get to that," Mordred said, sneering at his lack of reaction. "Whatever Kotomine's got on the other Servants of the Red Faction—it's got something to do with whatever's being done in their fortress. I only ever set foot into the cathedral but not once into the heart of that thing." The knight's gaze returned to the fields, her eyebrows scrunching together.

"We know that as well, which is the reason why we sent one of our Servants into it." the lack of reaction, or rather, indifference showed that she already knew that. "And we also found out something about your other Rider."

This time the Knight looked at him, disdain and raised eyebrows evident.

"What are you talking about?"

He sighed. "I would like to know that too. From what we know Rider of Red is Achilles, but who was the Rider that managed to drive away our Servant?"

Mordred had a strangely blank expression. She knew about the attack but not how it was prevented. That's the look she held at this moment which meant Kotomine hadn't told them about the additional Servants. However for some strange reason he found his mind hazy and his thoughts disorganized when it came to said, **S**. _e_. **R**. _-!"_ **n**** _t'-s…_ As if trying to focus his mind, his thoughts turned towards another piece of information.

"I found inconsistencies with your legend that I wanted to ask you about. I can hardly ask our Servant about that as I feel they'd lose focus." So I'm going to tell you about it and see how it'll affect you. He didn't need to say those words for her comprehension and from the way she narrowed her eyes, she was challenging him to try and rile her up.

"Why was King Arthur, who was said to be an enemy of your mother Morgan le Fay, surrounding himself with her offspring?" the look he received was beyond shock. It was a look that spoke more volumes as any paragraph could give it justice, as if the Knight of Treachery never asked himself this question in his short life.

"Noble as it might had been, it doesn't fit certain texts I found regarding Arthurian legends. For one—the true meaning of Caliburn, but most importantly the tales regarding the Once and Future King and his court mage discussing the possibility of child murder. The offspring of their oldest enemy could warrant it. The fact that Morgan supposedly had so much offspring to begin with is just as much of a controversial topic, especially since in the tales after King Arthur she was described to have given up on her plans of vengeance and became a nun." He didn't need her shocked silence, so he gave her a bone to chew on. "So why would only you, another offspring of Morgan claim that the throne was yours for the taking?"

Those words undid the spell, breaking the knight away from her confusion.

"Of course it is! I am the only rightful heir to the throne of Britain! Only through my veins flows the blood of the King of Knights!" Mordred declared, red lightning rising from her fist. "Was it my fault that Agravain was a sourpuss and revealed Lancelot's affair with the queen—nope! In all that chaos I was the only one who could unite all of them against that bastard of a father!"

"That is another matter that interested me," he said, cutting Saber off. "After I read up on all the tales of the Round Table, the tales of Ser Lancelot have not appeared in any recounting dating back to the age of Arthur—rather, they suddenly appeared like so many others centuries after."

She scoffed, muttering something along the lines of texts and stories being discovered after their passing.

A wicked smile formed. "But like I said, those legends are highly inconsistent, especially considering that you yourself are a woman." He knew from the look of pure murder in her eyes that he managed to drag up a part of her that she wanted to see buried.

Not unexpectedly, she summoned her blade and nearly beheaded Vlad—only refraining to do so due to the look he gave her.

"As I said before, if you wish to challenge the sword in the stone, come to my lair." He didn't look at the knight in front of him in pity, nor envy or jest. He just gave the child in front of him a look of understanding. He understood her pain, of being born the child of a great leader and not succeeding due to circumstances outside of their control. Although he never rebelled against his father, only taking the throne after he had died of natural causes.

"Challenge accepted!" The Knight of Treachery screamed. "I'll behead that fool Gawain and take his Galatine!" he blinked at her words only once as to not arouse any suspicions. _Oh right, the pieces of Caliburn were originally used to forge the famed blade of the slayer of the Green Knight—Excalibur Galatine._

"To be honest, that name for the sword is utterly ridiculous," he muttered, "Truly the only significant tale I found on Ser Gawain was his encounter with the Green Knight and his useless feud with Ser Lancelot. And that was nothing worth of noting considering what others at the Round Table accomplished. Even you managed to make a larger impact in the tales of Arthurian legends than Ser Gawain. _Heaven forbid_ —even Bedivere accomplished more than him and the knight was one-armed!"

He meant his words to be nothing more than a joke although the amount of truth concerning that particular member of the Round Table was indeed something he didn't wish to think about. How much had history messed with those tales that people actually believed that _'Galantine'_ had _'Excalibur'_ proceeding it. Shouldn't it have been _'Caliburn'_ instead?

Although judging from the look of utter mirth on Mordred's face he apparently made the right choice of wording. Hearing the child in front of him laughing so earnestly about the miserable state of Ser Gawain's tales was however somewhat delightful, if he had to admit it.

"Are you seriously revving up about that blockhead to me?" she said between laughter, keeling over and dematerializing her sword.

"Well, excuse me if you are the only other member of the Round Table that I can use as a reference." He kept the fact that Mordred was wrong to himself. Maybe it was for the better—surprises, just like revenge, had to be served cold.

Once the Knight of Treachery finished laughing and caught her breath, she looked at him with a certain degree of appreciation.

"Thanks for the laugh," the knight said. Although she kept her distance to him "Now tell me why we came out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"…!" Now it was his turn to look at her in shock. "Are you telling me that you followed me without a word just like that?"

She shrugged and said, "Instinct. I had a feeling you weren't going to fight me."

He massaged his temple "All these Sabers and their damn [Instinct]," he seethed before chuckling. "Let us return then. I thought you would appreciate a look at this beautiful land of mine but it seems that you have no interes—"

"—It's not like that. This land just looks richer than Britain back then, that much I can admit." the interruption was sudden, yet not unwelcome.

"Was it like that when you ruled?" She asked.

He walked past the knight, motioning for her to follow after him; he was going to answer her questions while returning.

"It was…a difficult time back then. The people didn't have much but never struggled so much that they had to resort to unnecessary actions. They were the lands of my father. The land we were born in and harvested for its riches. The thing that always brought us to our knees in those times were the tributes we had to hand over to the Ottoman Empire. That was also one of the reasons why my brother, Radu, and I had been handed over to them, to ensure that these lands wouldn't be ravaged needlessly."

"Seriously? Did your father not know the difference between a political hostage and a sacrifice?" he stopped to look at the knight. "What? I know the difference, why do you think Father went through the trouble of saving so many people?" Another eyebrow rose at those last few words. The Knight of Treachery didn't elaborate.

"You're right. We were hostages. But these lands were important to us nonetheless. That was the reason we endured. And while my brother may have fallen for the Ottoman, I only saw my country in the horizon and the people who suffered under the Empire. They called me a demon but I only used what they taught us against them."

"Served them right. But why go through the trouble for this dirt?" now that brat was pushing it. He sighed, already knowing that should he answer in anger she would have won.

"Because there was nowhere else I or the people of this 'dirt' could go and call home," he said with both clarity and experience. Disregarding what anybody would claim about him, Vlad Tepes was the son of the Dragon. As such, he would hoard and slay anything that dares to defy his rule and tried to harm what he deemed worth protecting. He chuckled at his last thought—he truly was a tyrant.

As he looked ahead, he intentionally left his back open. Saber of Red wouldn't stab him. Not before lingering questions were answered.

Then he stopped.

It appeared without a second of a notice. Down the path, not even waiting for his comprehension. The knight came to a halt beside him, also looking at the approaching figure.

It was Amakusa Shirou Tokisada.

And he stood before them just as quickly as he had appeared. Down the road. As shocked as Vlad was, he refrained from reacting in a way that would give away a weakness. Why he knew that this man in front of him was the fabled "second" Ruler he didn't know but, it had been a while since he last—

"I apologize if I interrupted your conversation, Lancer—Vlad Tepes III—and Saber, the Knight of Treachery—Mordred."

Vlad's eyes widened at the soft-spoken tone of this man. It was as if he interrupted his **th—** _'O' u_ _G 'h'_ — Shirou Kotomine smiled, suddenly shaking his hand. The man was deeply tanned, with white hair and dressed in a priest's black vestments.

"Won't you join our cause, Lancer?" he asked and Vlad had to rip his hands out of this man's grasp.

Something was off—no, it was alien; he couldn't form coherent thoughts for longer than moments. Vlad's eyes traveled to Saber of Red who looked ahead blankly before her body lit up in [Red Lightning] and broke whatever mood they were captured in.

"YOU!" she shouted, looking at the priest with a mix of horror and unadulterated rage."Why the fuck do you feel like Mother?"

She readied her sword—or she would but only Clarent's grip seemed to appear while the rest remained transparent. The knight still swung her sword at Kotomine only for the priest to be outside of her range, as if teleporting away.

"I have to apologize," Kotomine said. "I am still unable to control this form of Magecraft correctly." His left arm began to glow white, revealing white markings that ran from his palms up to his elbow. "One of my Noble Phantasm [ … ] it allows me to use the Magecraft used by Man, although I have yet to see or experience it for myself."

His and probably Mordred's eyes widened in stark alarm. The Lord Impaler had not expected the man to reveal himself before him nor that he would use his Noble Phantasm.

"Is this a bounded field?" he asked cautiously as the space around him appeared to glow and out of focus while the Servants remained in focus.

Kotomine shook his head. "No, but your assumption isn't far from that truth. Honestly speaking, I did not expect the Vlad Tepes that stands before me. You don't appear to be the man I would have encountered as a vampire within the Hanging Gardens. ...ah, forgive me. I had a...séance earlier that allowed me to see beyond the Kaleidoscope. Which is the reason why I am so pleasantly surprised to encounter a Vlad that might be willing to—"

"—I refuse."

Kotomine looked at Vlad and then slowly looked at Mordred. Both of them said the same at the same time. The priest looked at both of them with raised eyebrows.

"That was rather abrupt. You didn't even listen to what I was about to say."

Mordred was the first of them to answer, meeting Vlad's eyes.

"I refuse to work with whatever the fuck you are. Sorry about that assault you planned but I'll tell the others about you being a Servant." She pointed blade at Kotomine.

Taking that as a cue for his turn Vlad immediately added, "And for what reason do you believe I would betray my people? Whatever this—" motioning for his surrounding which still appeared distorted, "—is, I will not and can not side with a man who lied his way into power and uses heroes as nothing more than pawns for a greater plan. What you're trying to achieve will fail because only those that live in the now can, and are allowed to change the future."

"…" Kotomine didn't say anything, only smiling as he closed his eyes and nodded. "It seems negotiations broke down before I could even say anything." He looked at his hand. It was a symbol that appeared to be a seven-branched tree pointing upwards—something in the pits of Vlad's core screamed for him to slay this man while he could, using [Kazikli Bey] but he did not.

"At least I can rest easy in knowing that at least Atalanta will join me," the priest said.

Mordred reacted by nearly lashing out at him, though Vlad stopped her with a carefully placed hand against her elbow. Her emerald eyes bored into his, knowing very well that she had every right to slay this man before them, but it was wiser to listen to him first before acting. At least he hoped his eyes conveyed that message, and smiled when she relaxed.

Shirou had been watching both of their interactions, his gray nearly silver eyes possessing a distinct coldness that both intrigued and terrified Vlad. This was a man willing to risk and sacrifice anything for his ambitions. And this man was supposed to be an impartial Ruler-Class Servant?

"What makes you so sure?" Vlad asked.

"Atalanta's wish is to grant happiness to all children. My wish is the materialization of humanity's souls' past, present and future—therefore granting her wish," the priest said with so much conviction that Vlad was utterly tempted to take his head. It had been so very long that he met a religious zealot on the path to destruction.

A hand against his elbow dragged him away from the forming bloodlust within his guts. He stared at Mordred while the knight seemed to grit her teeth.

"Really now? To me it sounds like you're going to kill everyone." He smiled at the accusatory tone of Mordred's voice, thanking her in his mind for cooling his off.

The priest continued to smile. It never reached his eyes. Then the brandished symbol flickered which Shirou acknowledged with a brief glance before looking at them again.

A sigh escaped the priest's mouth.

"Do you not want to receive a chance to understand your father, Mordred? Do you not want to see your brother once more, Vlad? Have the both of you given up on salvation? Both of you are so driven by the tragedies that shaped your lives yet neither of you want to try and find closure? Think about it: once humanity is united, we will be on equal footing. True equality—no hate or prejudice, nor war or decay—in which everyone can feel loved and secured. Do you wish to deny yourself the chance to see eye to eye with those whom you thought hated you?"

Vlad interrupted Shirou's speech, utterly taken over by discontent, before this man could further embarrass himself. "You wish to take away individuality…to do what? Further humanity's progress? Don't joke with me. Humanity will either strive towards its own destruction or advance to a point that it will colonize the stars. To take away the possibilities of growth away from those who will shape the future is a crime far greater than the sacrifices of the past! What? Are you regretting your loss at Hara Castle so much that you wish to redo your life? A man who fears the present and regrets the past can't advance towards the future!"

Amakusa Shirou looked at him with a mixture of indifference and apathy. It would seem that his words didn't reach the saint which made Vlad regret hearing this man out. There was no helping a man who blinded himself from the possibilities laying before him. Someone who only sees the dead can't see the living and from the sounds of Mordred's laughter he at least knew that there was someone who agreed with that notion.

"And what are you laughing at, you brat?"

"Took the words right out of my mouth, old man!" Mordred yelled, in-between her laughter but then she stopped and looked Amakusa dead in the eyes. "There's no use crying over spilled milk, right? Search for all that love and peace crap elsewhere, you crybaby. Don't decide for me what I want or don't, cause I am the only one who decides that!" she pointed at Vlad with a thumb and the Lord Impaler had a vague idea what she was going to say—much to his dismay.

"The old man is right. I don't wanna take something for granted. I wanna take everything in my life with my own two hands. What I wear, eat, or how I live my life are for me to decide and I'll show my father the error of not choosing me as his heir by lifting the sword from the stone and shoving it down his throat!"

I would have chosen a different wording for that, Vlad thought but laughed as well. Her words were as brutish and fitting as her title as a Knight of the Round Table!

"Let me rephrase my rejection," he began while the Knight of Treachery kept laughing. "There is no way in fucking hell that I will join you now that I know what you want."

Mordred laughed even harder at his words while [Red Lightning] rose from her manifesting sword. It would seem that its materialization had been slowed down significantly and the Lord Impaler smiled at the savagery lying within those forest-green eyes.

"Ditto!" she screamed, raising her blade.

"Oh how the ignorant remain such. Lord, please forgive my transgressions and let these fools' souls be forgiven," Amakusa muttered, jumping away before a half-charged [Clarent Blood Arthur] could rip him to pieces. Subsequently, dozens of stakes shot out of the ground.

Shirou had little time, yet he remained calm when the projectiles invaded his field of vision. Six Black Keys slid into his palms; he threw them diagonally into the air.

"Set," he said. Rolling to the side, he retreated into the forest.

Magical circles appeared behind the Black Keys, adjusting their angles before accelerating into Vlad and Mordred. The Lord Impaler jumped over the Knight of Treachery while the blades impaled the ground behind them. A stake rose and catapulted him into the treetops.

Wanting to follow, Mordred readjusted her blade and attempted to sprint after them before being stopped in her tracks.

"What the—!" she looked back to see one of the Black Keys impaling her shadow—rendering her immovable. A sneer formed on her lips before charging up Clarent.

Back in the forest, Shirou contemplated advancing the bounded field although he admitted that this form of Magecraft was taxing to his psyche.

He narrowly evaded a stake that greeted him once he got closer to the city outskirts. Rolling seemed to work—except there were stakes raining down. Through [Clairvoyance] he already knew that Vlad was dangling from tree branch to tree branch like a child on a hunt for an easy prey, converting each branch he held into…

Shirou's eyes widened when another stake appeared right in front of his face. The soaring wind accompanying Vlad was cutting and terrifying, especially when the Lancer advanced faster than he had anticipated. He grabbed another set of Black Keys, ready to intercept the man's charge head-on.

The moment Kazikli Bey crashed into his blades Shirou knew they were going to shatter, therefore he let go of the blades and jump back once the stakes halted.

The priest charged Vlad, throwing his blades into different directions and charging his Noble Phantasms.

"Set!"

Vlad met his charge in kind, already raising stakes out of the ground to stop the blades—until he stopped out of inexplicable reasons. He immediately looked back for just a moment, seeing a Black Key stabbing his shadow while the priest took up more blades.

**"[Clarent Blood Arthur]!"**

A shout echoed in the little forest. And with it came a charge of concentrated prana racing in every direction—uplifting the ground, uprooting the trees and between Vlad and Shirou like a tidal wave, throwing both of them onto the ground.

As the dust settled, Mordred flew overhead, ready to split Shirou's skull in two with a single swing.

He gritted his teeth, calling upon the bounded field to mess with Mordred's vision. Shirou rolled out of the way, setting an number of circles onto the ground to catapult him in the opposite direction of Mordred's attack.

Like a red shooting star, Mordred crashed into the ground, having double vision for a second and missing her target entirely.

"He messed with my vision!" the knight screamed before going after Kotomine with a thrust. The priest's Black Keys once again slipped into his palms and met her blade from the side while stepping into her space and dragging her leg forward, causing her to slip.

Not one to accept that, Mordred charged Clarent up and swung while spinning. Kotomine ducked under it. She continued to whirl, trying to find her balance and hacking into the direction she saw black clothing and white hair. Once she stopped and her vision cleared, four Black Keys were twirling towards her torso. She materialized her armor, blocking the invading objects before de-materializing it and rushing towards the priest.

Caught off-guard, Shirou side stepped Mordred's initial thrust before realizing that Clarent was being switched from left to right. Multiple swings for the neck were blocked and Shirou threw more Black Keys into the air.

"Set."

When the Blades were shot at her, she grinned before flipping back and kicking the blade off Shirou's hands—he merely grabbed another and charged at Mordred only to get Clarent thrown at him.

He rolled to the side and grabbed another Black Key to stop Mordred's armored hand from punching him. Mordred caught the priest's blades between her fingers and yanked him closer.

Shirou just let go until a sudden gust of wind dancing across his neck warned him of the approaching stake racing for his head. He let himself fall sideways, noticing Clarent embedded deep within the wood. His eyes widened when Mordred got hold of her sword once more swing with all her weight at him.

Out of instinct, Shirou slipped another set of blades into his hands, reinforced his limbs and received the blunt force which shattered the ground beneath his feet. To make matters worse, a large row of stakes shot for him from nearly from all directions. He relaxed his body, closed his eyes and let the silver light—his sight of the future—guide his every move.

Shirou let himself fall to the side, guiding the blade heading for his skull to the side to destroy incoming stakes, then released the blades. He spun around with stake after stake grazing his hair as he landed, before meeting it with his left hands and urging it to give in into his weight before rejecting the invasive reality altering and letting his body move with blinding speed away from the two juggernauts ready to destroy him.

This was but another trial before reaching his true goal, after all.

He evaded stake after stake with his eyes closed using every ounce of his future sight to narrowly escape the attacks before moving aside when Vlad burst through the rubble, ready to impale his head with Kazikli Bey. Shirou spun around, avoiding the stakes and came to a stop, relaxing his stance. Releasing a held breath the priest then opened his eyes looking at both his adversaries before tightening his stance, anticipating their next action.

Said adversaries noticed it, however.

The change in his eyes.

They were no longer a dull gray. Now akin to a shining silver, it radiated an artificial light while one of the eyes held the same tree-like symbol.

Vlad and Mordred exchanged a look before he rushed at Kotomine ready to slash him with the tip of his spear which Shirou evaded and jumped before noticing that Mordred used Vlad's charge to launch herself off his back into the air where she spun around and landed behind him.

Clarent traveled through the air with precision and purpose, narrowly avoided by Kotomine. He had used his Black Key's to capture Vlad's spear between them, rushing at the Lord Impaler.

Sparks flew up while Shirou used the spear as a prop to spin into the air and avoid Clarent's thrust and kicked Vlad's face, only to realize that the Lord Impaler moved aside and grabbed his leg, lifting him upwards. Vlad had to let go when Shirou kicked out viciously.

"Set."

Vlad jumped back as the Black Keys Shirou abandoned shot upwards towards him where the priest caught them once more and used them to defend against Mordred's swing.

He landed a good distance away from them.

"It has been a while since I used this. Please do continue to entertain me a while longer," Kotomine commented. The shine in his eyes broadened.

Out of the blue, his frame blurred before accelerating to the point that he intruded into Mordred's personal space with his Black Keys ready to impale her abdomen.

"Argh!" She howled when she couldn't manifest her armor in time, cursing as the blade dug deep into her guts.

Shirou tried to pull out the blades knowing that he shouldn't waste them like this too much longer, but they were stuck. Mordred was clenching her abdomen's muscles while bringing down Clarent upon him. He let go immediately, rushing over to another pair of discarded blades before barely evading another stake aiming for his head.

The priest sighed when Vlad rushed him, meeting his follow up thrust. For a moment, they struggled against each other, before a ghastly voice reminded Shirou of his role before the priest pushed the lance aside and threw a punch into Vlad's guts. The Lord Impaler just smiled meeting his fist with his own.

A stake shot out from Vlad's hand impaling Shirou's fist. The priest's eyes widened for a single moment before narrowing.

"What have you done to yourself?" he asked before his voice was cut off by Clarent barely a few centimeters away from his neck. "...time to end this then," he said cryptically before everything around them turned white.

.

.

.

**"…?!"**

When Vlad came to again he was standing where Mordred and him first met Amakusa Shirou. However, for some strange reason there seemed to be a gap in his memory. Looking around, he became strangely alienated by what transpired and what unnerved him was the bloodlust still coursing through him. The monarch then looked to his side where Mordred stood, massaging her abs.

"What are you doing?"

"It feels like I've got stabbed in the gut again!" The knight half-yelled, yet the questioning tone in her voice made it clear that she too was confused by the lack of a wound despite that feeling. "Last thing I remember was meeting that fake priest and then…" she trailed off, beginning to walk away.

"I don't seem to recount what we were talking with him about," Vlad admitted, picking up the pace beside the knight.

"Pretty sure that we fought more than we talked," Mordred returned hurrying her strides.

"Now that seems to be what I recount as well," Vlad agreed while jogging. "Guess he either made us forget—"

"Or that fucking priest made a deal with a devil!" Mordred accelerated while screaming "What the hell happened?!"

The Lord Impaler and the Knight of Treachery looked at each other before sprinting with all they've got. The distance between them and the city was larger than expected but it wasn't nothing neither couldn't cross in time.

"Tonight—!" Vlad screamed, pushing Mordred's head aside.

Startled the blond looked at him before a feral grin formed.

"Your castle!" she returned, jumping to kick his butt and hastening to put distance between them. "Two objectives! Protect them if you can!"

Nearly falling over from the sudden assault, Vlad recovered and rushed beside the knight "After that—!"

**"—Kotomine's head will be mine!"**

Jeanne seemed to have heard a scream not far from the church. She only knew that it was indeed a sound since she saw Atalanta's ears—the human ones—twitch and then the accompanying sounds of thunderous stampeding. If she didn't know better, she would have thought that the Englishmen were invading again—on horseback, no less.

Nothing prepared her for the arrival of Vlad and Saber of Red who came running down the streets with clouds of dust in their wake. When they finally came to a halt, neither of them said anything and instead took panicked strides towards her, Atalanta and Kairi. The knights exchanged a look that was layered with both animosity and something Jeanne didn't expect—challenge.

Both of them then looked at her, Vlad asking the question both of them seemed to have. "Ruler, have you sensed the presence of another Servant?" she eyed the both of them, unsure what they were talking about therefore she gave them both a short yet resolute reply.

"No, I haven't."

They looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

"I will see if you can manage that, you unruly brat," Vlad said bumping his knuckles against Mordred's head while the knight did the same to his guts.

Jeanne nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw that and Laeticia was doubly shocked when the knight delivered the overly aggressive reply.

"Don't try to die through—or with?—old age you scrawny old man." Mordred then rushed over Atalanta, throwing her Master over her shoulder and dragging the Archer by the hand much to the surprise of her, Vlad, and the few bystanders. Jeanne and Laeticia didn't know how to react to the sight, only that now wasn't the time for that as their attention fell onto Vlad who looked at her expectantly.

She gave him a curt nod before following him to the horse they came with. A fact that still surprised Jeanne since the sight of a horse in these modern times should be very different. "Did something happen?" She asked him when they were mounted and speeding along the street, although not the one they came from which surprised her somewhat.

"Ruler, let me ask you again if you had sensed anything from the time I left to the time I returned with Saber of Red," Vlad asked before whipping the reins again. A lilac-colored magical energy formed on the mount's sides before flowing into the limbs and its head.

From what the saint recalled, Chiron had imbued some of his essence into the steed although she wasn't sure what he meant at the time. Now she understood as the horse's pace increased into a sprint unlike anything she ever experienced, rivaling the speed of a Servant without the horse exhausting unnecessarily.

+++ ::: +++

"I am sorry, but I truly didn't sense anything," Atalanta said again, racing after Mordred. The blonde was still carrying her Master although it shifted from a over the shoulder to a more embarrassing one before the knight dropped him in front of a car.

 _What the—_ Atalanta's thoughts were repulsed by the sight of this—this modern chariot-like thing. It was all metal with slick lines and very little that she could describe as a safe transportation method. Feeling unpleasant from her first impression, she immediately realized what Mordred was about to do.

"You're going to steal a car?" Mordred looked at her skeptically before examining the vehicle in front of her. The Argonaut felt her irritation grow—this was Jason all over again! "Let me rephrase that: we are going to steal _this_ car?"

Much to her dismay, Mordred didn't say anything and instead walked over to said death machine, opening the door—and throwing its occupant who was in a strange state of undress onto the streets.

"Piss off," the knight told the man who scrambled onto his feet and ran off into the opposite direction. "Car's ours now." Mordred said with a grin and sat herself onto the driver's seat. Atalanta resisted the urge to smack her head only now noting that the vehicle didn't seem to possess a backrow which—

"—first comes first serves," Kairi said smugly when he got into the passenger's seat, smirking when he saw the archer's betrayed expression. Both of them knew what this meant and to be honest Atalanta didn't like the Argo. In fact this vehicle reminded her of that damn boat so much that she wished to get another chance to shot an arrow up Jason's arse for dragging her with him. Now she had to sit on top of this death machine.

"Why?" she asked Mordred who looked at her expectantly and with a certain degree of childish excitement. Damn her weakness to children! Without a second word she got on the overly red roof—she saw something akin to a horse at the front so she assumed that was the manufacturer—drawing more than a few unwanted stares before Mordred spoke to her telepathically.

_'Can you get through to Lancer and Rider?'_

The car choose to accelerate during that moment and speed down the road and directly onto the main road. Thankfully Atalanta was used to unsteady grounds which made it easier for her to find balance.

 _'Is something wrong? Does it have anything to do with you and Lancer of Black?'_ the knight shifted the mirror to the side so she could meet Atalanta's gaze. But Mordred was ignoring every traffic law in existence, nearly ramming into other cars, almost hitting people and always driving through red lights—which was probably only two times since they were still in a rural area.

+++ ::: +++

Vlad's grip tightened. "We met Shirou Kotomine."

Jeanne's eyes widened. "Lancer, what are you—" How could she miss that? Her Clairvoyance and presence detection were fundamental as a Ruler-class, mandatory even, yet she missed such a crucial meeting?

 _'To all Servants of the Black Faction: Prepare for battle,'_ Vlad suddenly announced as the steed galloped through a short forest. _'The enemy will launch an assault. Arthur, I want you in the west wing while Chiron remains with the east. Neither of you are to engage the enemy before they breach the walls. Wait for Avicebron's specialized golems to join your ranks and prepare bounded fields and barriers as fast as possible.'_

 _'Vlad? What the heck!'_ came Astolfo's strangled scream although nobody else reacted and simply gave an affirmative reply.

The horse rode with all its might along the barely traveled paths. For just a second, Jeanne imagined that Vlad had chosen these roads because if familiarity. The thought was quickly crushed when countless questioned invaded her mind.

"What happened?"

"When Saber of Red and I went for a walk we encountered Amakusa Shirou on our way," Vlad replied, not looking back, keeping his eyes on the untraversed path in front of him. "For reasons I am utterly baffled by, I cannot recount what we talked about, nor what we did. The only certainty I possess is the fact that the lust for battle and bloodshed was coursing through my veins. After that, we decided to part ways."

There was something unspoken in Vlad's tone. The Ruler couldn't fathom as to why her detection did not work and it had terrible implications—many that could have something to do with all those elements that could derail this Great Holy Grail War into a mess far greater than anything she could manage on her own. One fact remained, however, a single question weighting on her mind: "What are you planning to do?"

+++ ::: +++

Mordred didn't look back, continuing to steer the wheel. Night had not fallen yet and she was certain that Vlad hadn't managed to return to his castle either.

"Saber, as much as I can understand your confusion, I am certain that Kotomine wasn't anywhere near you." Atalanta didn't understand the look Mordred threw her.

"I-I know what I saw, okay?" the knight said softly. That made both her and Kairi look at the blond in surprise. "Dunno if what I saw was real or not, but it doesn't matter at this point. Have you gathered something useful from Ruler?"

A change of subject was a rarity for the knight which concerned Atalanta.

"She only asked me to join the Black Faction's side. After you left with Lancer of Black, she told us about the assault they'd done on Assassin's fortress and that they found—" she didn't need to voice what went through her mind, flashes of images better suited for a creepy novel instead of a glorious war for a wish-granting chalice. It felt wrong to tell Mordred about this, therefore "—Kotomine's secret prana generators."

"Yeah got that much," the knight retorted, her eyes narrowing. "Are you still willing to work with that fake priest?"

The archer had been thinking about this, but it was still too little time to understand it all that which was why she couldn't reply.

"If that's the case, then at least get those two things he wants."

"We're going through with the plan?" She asked, dodging a branch by ducking. The streets had long since been replaced with wide open fields—any Archer worth their salt could shoot them down. They were basically a moving target, or so Atalanta thought, looking back into the city briefly.

"Yes, once that priest fulfills his goals we'll turn heel immediately, return to his castle and demand some answers. How about it?" Mordred was leaning out of the window of the still driving car straight at her, eyes filled with things so familiar yet ever-distant. "Wanna come with us?"

Before she could answer, Kairi chimed in, "May I suggest something, milord?"

From where she sat she couldn't really see inside the car, which didn't stop her hearing from working, but even then she could already guess what kind of look was on the man's face.

"Since we don't know anything about the state of the other Masters in our Faction, should we not prioritizing finding out what happened to them?" Or if they were turned into those things, Atalanta thought darkly, remembering the tidbits Ruler told them from the Black Faction's assault. She gritted her teeth when she thought about her own naivety. How could she just assume that her Master was hiding like a coward if it was very possible that they weren't even in the shape of a human to begin with. Just another body to somebody's schemes!

"Doesn't really matter," Mordred answered, driving over a bump on the round and causing the car to be airborne for a moment—truly her time on the Argo had prepared her for any kind of unsteady ground. "Sure, it's easy to just look for the other Masters but once that fake priest doesn't care for that act of his, he'll probably take the command seals for himself."

She heard a sharp intake, thankfully covering her own, before she voiced her concern.

"How do you know that?" Atalanta asked this question not for herself, nor for the other two, but mainly due to Mordred's clearly voiced opinion. Not many would consider the Knight of Treachery as a perceptive fellow; although how else could she assemble an army and unite it under her flag to rebel against the Once and Future King? Yet the words that followed made her anger bare its fangs.

" **Because puppets are easier to control than people.** At least that's what Mother used to say," the knight said bitterly, holding the wheel tightly before breaking off the given path and driving through uneven terrain. "By the way, have you connected me to Rider yet?"

 _'—what?'_ came the voice of Achilles. She had already connected them when Mordred asked but Atalanta was pleasantly surprised by his patience and the neutral tone. It was moments like these that made her remember his father. A fond little smile formed, knowing that his son was supporting her in his steed.

"Lancer of Black's probably going to pass through the forest close to his Fortress. Can ya intercept him? We have to keep him away from his territory for as long as possible." The knight had a savage grin. "Let our Lancer launch whatever large-scale attack that he's got—their Saber should be able to stop it and from there, we'll pick them up…"

Whatever Atalanta had expected from the fabled Knight of Treachery, she at least knew that this knight was more than used to raids. In fact, calling Mordred the Treacherous King would be the greatest compliment the blonde would accept.

+++ ::: +++

"Why do you think they'll allow that to happen?"

Jeanne wasn't one to understand the minds of tacticians, something that was clearly visible to anybody that knew of her tale. The tale of a young maiden who heard the distraught of God and went onto the battlefield to stop the invading English and end the Hundred Years' War. She had united people with her very presence and fought side-by-side with her fellow Frenchmen.

Hearing Vlad talk about the very real possibility that the Red Faction would assault them on their return trip to the Black Faction's castle send chills down her spine.

"If anything, I know that Mordred would like to keep me as far away from our forces as possible. I suspect her sending either Rider or Lancer of Red, if not both of them, to stop us," Vlad explained as the light above dimmed with the leaves and trees blocking most of it. "I doubt that she'd do the latter no matter how much she'll want to tire me out. The most logical step would be to send a heavy hitter to the castle and to us at the same time."

The calmness in his voice did nothing to help her alleviate the shudders she felt. No sane man could be so calm while an assault was coming towards him.

"Why…" she wanted to ask him why Saber of Red would want to tire him out; after all, she thought it was a knight's honor to fight fair and square—but she was stopped by Vlad's dark chuckling. It was an eerie sound that filled every inch of the forest to the point that Laeticia hallucinated an echo.

"Say, Ruler, would you enjoy hunting your prey if it was at full power or if it was clinging to its life like a drowning cur?" it was that nonchalant tone in this man's voice that confirmed any and all rumours she heard about this man and his expectations on Mordred. "Either way, I will most likely be flanked very soon so if you can…" Jeanne was glad that Vlad's heart was in the right place despite his actions and intentions being controversial therefore she was willing to cooperate with this him.

**:: "Back so soon? Has your grand unveiling bear fruit to a delight most sinful?" ::**

The moment he stepped into his chambers Shirou knew that the Magecraft taken too much of a toll on him. The phantom pain of Vlad's surprise attack was still stinging in his hand despite the lack of a wound—the image had burned itself into his mind.

However, he didn't expect Shakespeare sitting at his personal table.

"I must say, Master, this room is such a delightful surprise! Might this be a gift of our esteemed Queen?" the playwright asked while posing with his hands motioning for anything in sight. "Floors like solid water, yet not reflective. Skies of peerless blue on the roof with clouds of solid white scattering and shaping a firmament worthy of a saint like you." Shakespeare stopped when he noticed Shirou's state, bowing once he got onto his feet. "Oh, forgive me, Master, I took the liberty of invading into your private chambers for a game of thoughts but it appeared you had left."

"It—I...doesn't matter. Shakespeare, how may I help you?" he still had to uphold his authority, especially with this man. For some reason the Shakespeare he knew behaved outside of his visions and that included this sudden appearance in his room. Of course, it isn't a Marble Phantasm, despite its appearance mimicking his inner mind—hence the myriad of rain clouds edging at the corners of his oval ceiling—but he didn't need to tell Caster more than he needed to know.

The man smiled at him before coming closer him, moving as if he was drunk, pulling something out of his sleeve and slamming it on the table. It was a Shogi board, although the pieces the playwright put onto it were from chess, Go and Othello pieces.

"I was concerned, Master. After all, I happened to meet your benefactor on the way. A rather daft fellow if I must say so, didn't even feel the need to greet his fellow man before disappearing like a jellyfish in boiling water."

Shirou got up from the floor. He had suspected that Caster and Assassin had already come in contact with _'it'_ which complicated some of his plans. Of course neither had objected to their little Mana Farm with Caster even marveling at the sight of the blob-like beings.

" _'They'_ are the beings whom Magi sell their souls and lineage to—therefore I saw fit to copy _'its'_ abilities as they are the bases of western Magecraft. At least the ones that are involved with _'them,'_ " he explained before Shakespeare pulled up a chair for him and motioned to that game of his.

"Truly inspirational. As expected of a saint to use your enemy's weapons for your noble intentions." Caster went to his seat after helping Shirou, smirking. "Your turn."

Shirou cocked his head with an embarrassed smile.

"I don't know the rules, Caster," he tried to say before Shakespeare's finger invaded his view, shaking it in a scolding manner.

"No, no, no. Master, you don't need to." the playwright moved the knight from Shirou's side to in front of his king. Confused, the priest looked at him which made the man smile softly. "After all, this is tonight's battlefield."

**: - He finished that with a smile that morphed into a visage of utter madness - :**

The wind rose with the screams of horses in the young night. Trees were ripped from the ground due to the gale Achilles's chariot left behind.

The target was on mark and barely had time to meet Achilles's lance aiming for his heart. Achilles laughed at Vlad's surprised face, already narrowing as he was literally pushed off his horse from the force and carried along the path of Achilles's thrust. Said horse fell and tumbled onto the ground, unmoving, with Vlad's eyes lingering on it for a moment.

The Greek hero watched with fascination in how the Lancer blocked his spear with both hands, still being rammed into surrounding hills. Vlad escaped the assault by spinning out the way, falling off to the side. Achilles's smile widened, above Vlad, as he jumped off his chariot to meet the Lord's Impaler's lance once more. The ground beneath the Servant of Black broke from the shock. He didn't buckle.

Achilles kicked off against Vlad, jumping back onto the ground while his adversary lost balance for a moment. He spun his lance around before resting it on his shoulders and looking at the Lord Impaler expectantly.

"Really? Night hasn't even fallen," Lancer of Black said, steadying himself and holding his lance in front of him.

"I heard you've given our Saber a run for her money," Achilles said, scarf flowing in the wind. "I just wanted to confirm if it wasn't a fluke."

Without a hint of a warning, he put his entire weight into the first step, rushing forward with his spear gliding along his back ready to be thrown forward. The ground beneath his feet shattered during his charge, as well as any tree or animal that have had the misfortune of being in his way.

Yet before Achilles's spear could reach the Lord Impaler, a stake of ridiculous proportions rose and thrust Vlad upward, letting the wooden stick receive the blow. Achilles spun around alongside his spear, aiming for the airborne form of Lancer of Black; he threw it with all his might.

The man was impaled through the chest yet when his eyes could focus clearer, he realized that it was more fluttery and less solid—a jacket. He jumped to catch his spear only for hundreds of stakes to shot towards him from the ground. Mindful of his heel, the hero of the Iliad kept them up while spinning around in a wild whirlwind.

The moment his feet could touch the ground the branches of the trees around him shot towards his eyes and torso. Surprised, his spear cleaved through as much of the trees in his surrounding as possible, clearing up a good chunk of the forest.

He recognized a figure rushing towards him from the corner of his eye. Achilles dug one foot in backward, and readied his spear to meet the assault, coming face to face with a coatless Lancer of Black.

Not one to let someone else have all the fun, the hero changed trajectory and jumped over the Lord Impaler, landing behind with his spear at the ready. However, Vlad evaded his back thrust, retrieving his impaled jacket, shrugging it on. Countless stakes rose all around him.

Vlad smiled. His hands moved as if he was directing an orchestra; all the stakes began to rise and fly, spinning around. Achilles watched with mild fascination in how the wooden sticks seemed to glue together in forming larger ones, morphing, and shooting at him.

Leaning out of the way, he took a closer look at the wood, noticing that they indeed were countless stakes pressed together—what kind of Noble Phantasm is that? he thought, leaping over another barrage. He grunted in annoyance, jumping again over an abnormally large stake.

Calling them that now was more than a little strange; these were enough to impale a dragon or some other Phantasmal Beast. That was just ridiculous. Seeing a gap between the stakes from high above the ground Achilles threw his spear with the intention of clearing his view.

It flew in courses left and right, destroying the stakes the wood and everything around it before lodging itself next to Vlad's head, having tilted it out of the way, and resumed his medley of death.

In the air, Achilles could see what was happening.

A never-ending mass of stakes rose from the clearing Vlad had made. I guess he's pressing them together to build up pressure, and use the weaker ones as ammunition.

Then they all burst.

"Hm. I still haven't got the hang of it," Vlad said absentmindedly before taking up his spear again. After jumping, a cluster of stakes shot up and launched him at Achilles.

Achilles was already prepared. He blocked the thrust with his spear and kicked off against Vlad. Leaves and branches followed his wake as he attempted to land, only for another rush of stakes to greet his legs. He rolled over it and sprinted to his falling enemy. A flurry of slashes shattered the wood Vlad summoned in defense almost immediately. Just when he was about to stab him, the ground caved and exploded with stakes. Achilles was going to throw up from the sheer amount.

A mighty swing from his spear broke the ground and stakes beneath his heel cleaving away at the battlefield and letting levitate for but a moment. A moment he saw Vlad move his wrist in a circular manner before pointing towards him. On cue massive stakes broke off from the ground in a circle before twisting and turning with more stakes breaking off from the sides of it.

Achilles watched all the stakes form a twisting anemone, pushing against his immortal skin and armor and catapulting him farther upwards before pushing him off the air and into the ground. Rage boiling inside, he roared and destroyed the onslaught, slashing wildly at anything invading his view.

"Quit fighting like a coward!" he roared, throwing his spear.

It broke through the sound barrier so hard that it might as well have been Zeus bringing down his lightning—so powerful that it uprooted everything in his vicinity and left plenty of craters and barren ground. And just like that, there was nowhere for Vlad to hide.

"What in Hades is your Noble Phantasm?" Achilles asked, trying to goad his enemy into attacking him first. The madman's chuckling unnerved him.

"My Noble Phantasm is the concept of impalement," he said, stretching his right hand sideways.

Achilles slid into a stance.

A leftover stake rose into the air, twisting and growing.

"Stakes made of trees, metal or anything else I could get my hands on at the time." The stake grew branches, still twisting to the point that it started to resemble bone-like structures. "I have prepared a special stake just for you, hero of the Iliad." He smirked. "After all, I always hated soldiers that never listened to their commanders."

"Oi, oi… you're treading on thin ice there, Hero of Wallachia," He retorted with a seething menace. He spun his spear around, hefting it onto his shoulders and prepared himself for whatever the Lord Impaler would throw at him.

The lance in Vlad's hand could only be described as demonic, like a sacrilegious cross. Resembling the spine of some victim, a skull was woven into shaft, and the head parted into three points.

"Say, what would happen if you applied the concept of twenty thousand impalements into a single lance?" the Lancer said with a chuckle.

Shit! He couldn't help noticing how the newly formed lance glowed, but before he could leave, it had already invaded his view.

**"[Kazikli Bey]—Final Impalement."**

Achilles had expected many things from this War. Being in the middle of a huge explosion that shook the entire forest and destroyed a good chunk of the land wasn't one of them. And while that was not enough to pierce through his immortal skin, he still felt the force and conviction behind it. The hero of the Iliad got up from the shattered ground, shrugging aside the rubble.

He looked up at the towering stakes reaching for the heavens.

The image of countless people impaled alive and left to rot, while crows ate their flesh, was driven into his mind. Standing atop the largest and tallest stake was the majestic sight of Vlad Tepes.

Smiling brightly, he rested his spear on his shoulders again. "Guess I shouldn't underestimate historical Heroic Spirits." he chuckled before launching himself at the Lord Impaler.

Vlad brandished both of his lances in each hand and met the charge in kind.

**:"'How did he change his Noble Phantasm?' You might ask." :**

Shakespeare was clearly enjoying the sight of his Master. Such sights are miraculous on their own.

"Shall I tell you Master?" He thanked whoever was up there for giving him a stage like this. Nothing filled his heart quite like a tragic meeting between heroes of myths and history. The joy in his eyes seemed to make his Master wary; after all, the playwright had invaded his sanctuary. Oh, but he couldn't help himself. Not with a sight like this and a match so outlandish it transgressed into insanity.

"Why do you—" the priest began but Shakespeare saw it fit to interrupt him.

"No, no, Master, that is not the right question!" he waved his hand across the board, spinning the king around. Shirou watched him in morbid curiosity—which he should. It wasn't everyday that a man like himself would educate. "The right question would be: what did he give away?"

He turned the piece onto its side, letting a tiny marble fall onto the board. It was a little pearl but for some reason, a red scar went through its surface.

**: "He sacrificed part of his Spiritual Core of course." :**

The rushing wind's cold embrace was a welcome change from the claustrophobic town. Wide fields, forests, and the sea even, offered more freedom. Still, to drive into battle on what amounted to an oversized speeding coffin, wasn't what Atalanta expected either.

The fields before them were filled with strange-looking rocks. They glowed once before rolling together to other rocks and clumping together into a large golem ready to strike at them.

Her tongue ran over her canine teeth, relishing at the prey before her and shot each one as they formed. Saber wasn't one to lay low either and hurled [Red Lighting] through her fist at the enemies closer to the car. The vehicle jumped from the debris falling in front of it, though neither noticed that some of the rocks were starting to absorb the magical energy's residue.

Atalanta aimed her bow at the heavens and invoked the names of the gods she swore to honor in annihilating the enemy ranks as much as possible.

**"[Phoebus Catastrophe]!"**

A large circle sprung into the air, engulfing and shining onto the fields and castle like the full moon. Countless arrows split off from the circle, hailing down upon everything beneath it like meteorites.

"Too easy." A voice rang throughout the field while dust rose off the ground moments before the Noble Phantasm arrived at its destination, clotting together and creating something akin to a dome all around the castle.

The moment the arrows of light touched the construct it shattered before clotting together once again before bursting, setting off a chain reaction that caused everything around the affected area to ignite as well. Yet in those fractions of a moment the explosions reverted and crystalline structures fell onto the fields.

Two large clouds gathered above the castle in front of a figure standing upon a levitating rock. A shudder ran down her spine the moment Atalanta's eyes fell on it. The mannequin's hands moved in circular motion; the clouds reshaped themselves into the forms of three-pronged directed at them. Afterward, for some reason, they dropped mid-air.

The bewildered Argonaut simply shot at the figure in the sky only to be intercepted by an opposing arrow. She followed the arrows' fight and met the green eyes of the centaur from yesterday.

They both smiled—though Atalanta had a different reason.

Saber held her sword out after getting out halfway through the window, charging its load. Kairi barely had any time to react to requisition the steering wheel. A smirk formed while she looked at the fortress in front of them.

 **"[Clarent Blood Arthur]!"** the knight roared into the night followed by a wave of [Red Lightning] cleaving through the fields, galloping toward the castle walls where Archer of Black stood on.

**"[Brahmastra Kundala]!"**

The light of the sun illuminated the sky, strong enough to bring daylight back for a moment, both beautiful and deadly. The storm of fire shot forth toward Millennia Citadel. It was a sight so bright and destructive that it left nothing standing in its wake. Atalanta was once again reminded of the power of their Lancer—and it wasn't even his main Noble Phantasm.

However, before the beam of blazing light could reach its target, a single tear in space ripped open. So small and insignificant compared to the light of destruction, yet a single maiden holding out her flag stood firmly before it. [Brahmastra Kundala] collided with the maiden of faith and diverged its path upwards into the sky where it exploded.

Countless clods of crystallized dust fell like snow onto the field while Ruler Jeanne d'Arc stood with her battered flag.

Atalanta couldn't help smiling when she saw the maiden. Out of courtesy from their meeting, the archer wouldn't shoot at her, but the building behind her. But before she could aim Tauropolos, an arrow invaded her view, embedding itself into the roof of the car.

Chiron was still sniping them, tall and proud on the castle walls. That was, until a large number of clouds gathered around him and reformed themselves into the form of spears. Atalanta watched in morbid curiosity how her fellow archer took the spears and nocked them.

"Good Luck," he mouthed while smiling and releasing arrow-spear after arrow-spear.

"Funny," she mouthed back, before yelling, "[Phoebus Catastrophe]!" She didn't trust how the sage had smiled while attacking them. Those arrows smelled like trouble and she sure as hell won't let him use them as he pleased.

"Saber! What are you doing?"

The car rocked to one side, nearly tripping over the edge until the door from the driver side opened and Saber got out, holding onto the frame for leverage. She held out her sword and [Red Lightning] arced off to the castle. Saber's Master barely managed to get a hold on the steering wheel in the meantime.

**"[Clarent Blood Arthur]!"**

More bursts of red prana shot towards the walls. From the corner of her eyes, Atalanta saw Karna sprinting over to the other side of the enemy's fortress. Chiron jumped backwards falling outside her sight—which was then obscured by the light of Saber's sword. The walls had crumbled, unable to endure the assault. Mordred slid back into the car, shoving her Master aside and turned the car around to go into the building.

Of course, things didn't go according to plan, as usual. Atalanta's sharp eyes picked out the silhouette of a horse with a man's torso.

"Saber!" she yelled when she saw more than one shadow of such a particular shape. There were dozens of them slowly moving out of the wreckage of the wall. Her eyes slowly widened when she met Chiron's. He stood atop the back of a centaur-shaped Golem armed with a bow and arrow. More revealed themselves when the dust lifted with each of them readying their aim.

"Charge!" the sage shouted immediately, causing the golems to glow. Illuminating purple lines ran through their bodies culminating in their legs, before kicking off and rushing forward.

"[Phoebus Catastrophe]! Saber, get us as far as we can go in this thing!" Atalanta requested eyeing the unnatural constructs and their lifelike movements. The release of the Noble Phantasm hadn't resulted in their annihilation as she had expected as each of the golems narrowly avoided the arrows or the attack was deflected by Chiron's own arrows.

The car groaned as it started rocking, with the earth shifting to reveal more and more golems of all shapes and forms, although most barely looked combat ready. Diversions? No they're trying to make us slower, she concluded, not letting up her assault on their pursuers.

"Is he following us?" Saber asked and she nodded. "So everything's going as planned then." The knight grinned from ear to ear.

**: "My, my, it seems our dear Knight of Treachery intends to pull a trap!" :**

Caster was beside himself with eagerness and Shirou found that more than unnerving. The pieces on the board were moved around once again. Now the knight and an Othello piece moved into the grid opposing the Tower.

**: "What a delight!" :**

**[Brahmastra Kundala]** burned ground and golem alike, rushing the castle, and Ruler stood there, holding out her flag. However, instead of meeting the charge head on another figure descended to meet it. Brilliant golden light erupted from the sword of promised victory. Had it not been for Karna's agreement with Atalanta, he wouldn't had felt this sense of satisfaction of luring the great King of Britain away from the fortress.

Tapping into [Prana Burst], it propelled him at the King of Knights, who was sitting behind Rider of Black on his Phantasmal Beast. In a way, the sight appeared humorous but it most definitely proved to be a combination with Achilles and him in mind, for their speed was uncanny and steady.

He readied his lance, ready to joust with the Knight, who readied her blade as well. Though Karna blinked when he saw double the smirks. Saber of Black held onto the Rider's shoulder to get up on the Hippogriff before jumping off, at Karna, blade poised for action. The Rider then sped off past them to the direction Karna last confirmed Achilles was headed, but his attention was brought back immediately once the sword and lance clashed.

"I wouldn't have minded facing both of you," Karna said, though from the slightly appalled look on his opponent's face, he knew that he once again overstepped.

"Truly your generosity knows no bounds oh hero of charity," the King said, igniting her blade, meeting his soaring flames with her own while both of them dropped from the sky at breakneck speed. Neither pushed against the other during this exchange.

"In a battle there are no excuses for the losing side." A lesson he learned the hard way—especially with the way he and his allies had treated Arjuna's son. "I once knew a boy who charged into his enemy's camp and thought he could ask for a pardon once his chariot broke down." He wasn't sure why he told her. Even when they crashed into the ground and pressed against each other, he couldn't find the answer.

"Either he thought his father would protect him even in that impossible situation or he was ignorant of his enemy's strength."

A soft smile formed on his lips. Finally, someone with a tongue as sharp as himself. Both of them burst forward and shattered the ground beneath their feet and erupted in a flame of brilliant light, destroying everything around them.

The hill collapsed. Rubble flew everywhere.

Dust cleared out from the gales Karna created with his spear. Standing at a good distance from each other, neither wanted to give up the counterattack; they charged at the other without a second thought.

Saber took the brunt of his swing, halting it, and pressed forward. Sparks jumped off their weapons. He leaned back to avoid a slash from the holy sword head before sweeping his spear widely to gain room. Saber's smaller frame allowed her to dodge from below, ignoring the razor-sharp gale and tried to slash at his torso.

Karna merely stepped back and dropped the spear to Saber's surprise. A swift hand grabbed the blade and he yanked it closer to send Saber flying from a kick to the head. He took a moment snatch up the lance and leaned back to throw it at the Once and Future King.

A [Prana Burst] reoriented her just in time to parry the soaring spear. She narrowed her eyes at Karna's advance. Acting from pure instinct, she stabilized her center of gravity and met his fist with the flat of her blade. The ground gave up from the force; she slid and briefly lost her balance from a particularly strong push. Time ground to a halt as she watched the son of Surya sidestep her to swing his spear.

Each collision broke surrounding hills as if they were a toddler's playthings in a tantrum. In a way this was more about skill, which he welcomed.

Saber blocked another thrust, and he slammed into her with his entire body to push the knight away from the castle. As much as he wanted this fight to remain where they where, it would make his allies' plans more difficult. It was a moot point since he was stopped almost immediately and when he glanced down, a look of utter defiance marred her face.

Karna smiled, uttering a single "Well done" and jumped back to avoid a pursuing blade. Mirroring the intensity of the sun, he dove back into the fray.

[Kavacha and Kundala] shifted from his shoulders to the front, preparing for the holy sword to slam into him. His eyes widened when Saber jumped, using [Prana Burst], and spun rapidly in the air and with her [Invisible Air] swirling around her like a tornado.

His lanky frame ignited, burning with the fire his father had bestowed on him, and his spear met the knight's. It had been so very long since he met someone that could challenge him like this. Yet the smile and memory he held at the moment of the clash spoke of another than Arjuna.

"Is there something funny, Hero of Charity?" the King of Britain asked, voice muffled by the wind. It was indeed a miracle, considering how their weapons' union reshaped the lands they stood on.

Saber was a warrior who enjoyed a joust, enjoyed the tranquility of peace and understood the importance of appearance. Had they met under different circumstances, he wouldn't have minded sharing a drink with her.

The moment the wind settled and the clouds of dust evaporated, both of them stayed close. Neither wanted to be pushed back any further. Such were the honor and pride coursing through their veins.

"No, I just had a stray thought regarding Bhima." It really was a stray thought. It seemed to amuse the King of Knights for she laughed lightly.

"If he was in this war than it might not have lasted for longer than a day." The recognition his estranged brother received filled him with satisfaction. "Though which of you would have won had you faced each other in that war?"

The faintest hint of a smile formed. That comparison had been drawn before, but the answer would never be known. Karna might have been the better warrior but Bhima had been in a class of his own, for even Indra couldn't subdue him.

"Who knows," he said.

Flames consumed his surroundings. A thunderous roar broke free from the clash of sword and spear, again and again. Nothing stood still for each thrust; the battlefield rattled and shook.

The Hero of Charity admired Saber's nimbleness in how she evaded his more powerful blows. He knew that he exceeded in raw power, but she continuously used her [Prana Burst] and [Invisible Air] at full throttle with sheer stubbornness.

When he looked at her, he saw someone driven by regret, something he had never felt. Despite that, he marveled at her steadfastness and the desire for something he had yet to find out. It mattered not for now, for the holy sword continued to interrupt his musings.

It was a deadly test of skill. But for the plan to work, he needed to force Saber further away. Eventually, it would shift to power. Therefore, his eye ignited, whispering a simple phrase.

"A true hero can kill with his eyes—[Brahmastra Kundala]!" The force of the Noble Phantasm was enough to shake the entire battlefield all at once and ignite the night with a blazing fireball.

For a single moment, a different light broke through the sun's intensity—brilliant radiance and purity.

Saber of Black had released all restrains from her blade.

Announcing loudly for the world to hear, the proud king cried, "[Excalibur]!"

The clash of the holy sword and the sun's fire ripped the earth open, like a festering wound.

A crevice opened and both fell.

"O great King of Knights, why are you holding back?" It wasn't hard to notice how she never released her sword's true potential, as if fearing uncontrollable destruction.

The knight looked shocked at his words, either from guessing correctly or from the sheer bluntness of his voice. Achilles did tell him he should work on putting a little emotion into his voice.

She didn't respond, instead forcing him to meet her charge, after ascending, clashing in midair over and over. Debris fell, hills flattened, and dust turned to glass from the sheer intensity.

Neither left any permanent marks on the other. Karna had his armor and he suspected Arthur's Avalon to be in play.

Another wide swing catapulted them across the hills that shattered upon impact before the King of Knights regained her footing. He jumped after her with earth-shattering speed, igniting his body, before his arm struck against the golden blade. He soon had to stop himself from going farther, moving back before he received a thrust to his face, though the knight had darted so closely there was barely any space between their torsos. She managed to land a solid swing that sent him flying.

As Karna ignited into a flame to stop himself, he exchanged a look with Arthur. She was charging Excalibur; Karna's eye lit up with flames, concentrating large amounts of power into it to meet the brilliant light ready to incinerate him. The moment their Noble Phantasm clashed, it generated an explosion that nearly filled the entire sky, sending them even further away.

Relaying the distance with Atalanta again finally gave him the confirmation, with the castle being a puny sight off in the distance. He didn't have time for musing—Saber of Black kept coming after him with [Prana Burst] and he was far from unenthusiastic at returning her advances.

The sound of an eagle echoed from far behind him, followed by the familiar sounds of a chariot. Karna didn't pay it any heed; his fellow demigod could take care of himself.

Besides, the King of Knights wouldn't allow him any time to worry. Therefore he met her mighty swing in kind.

+++ ::: +++

"No need to hurry that much, Rider," Vlad said with a smile which unnerved Astolfo a little upon arrival.

The Lord of Wallachia was engaged in a fierce battle with the Servant who had kicked the paladin's butt not too long ago, after all. Astolfo wasn't looking forward to see the "Lord Impaler" fighting a demigod with all he had. Still he motioned for Hippogriff to dive straight towards their leader, ready to catch the hand he knew would wait for him.

Lancer of Black exchanged blow after blow with Rider of Red. Though his were quite clumsy compared to Achilles's dexterity. But what he lacked in skill, he made up with brute strength one didn't expect from his lanky frame.

Neither of them were holding back, especially with how they were using the terrain to their advantage, jumping from tree to tree and even intentionally dropping to the ground for surprise attacks.

Rider of Red attacked Vlad's head from countless angles, forcing the Impaler to dodge or block the attack before diving in to push for more space. In that very moment, Astolfo shot right into the clearing, reaching for the outstretched hand.

Mere inches away, he saw Achilles regain his bearing and prepare to impale Vlad's head with a powerful thrust yet the paladin trusted that the Lord Impaler would do something.

"Took you long enough." he glimpsed the smirk even as time itself slowed down for this clash, watching how Vlad dropped both lances and summoned his stakes to lift him from beneath his feet right into Astolfo's flight path. A bright smile formed when the hand he ought to catch didn't miss, dragging the Lord Impaler off into the opposite direction and speeding up to get away from the Greek hero, only to hear thunderous screaming from horses right behind him. Out of fear he didn't dare look back, knowing full well that Rider of Red was right behind them on his chariot.

Astolfo felt Vlad tug at his hand still dangling off the site of his mount and he quickly let the King onto his Hippogriff. Instead of saying anything the Lord of Wallachia motioned as if knitting into the air and the sound of crying trees invaded his eardrums. A quick glance below revealed a myriad of stakes rising like reversed rain and shooting towards Achilles who sped up just enough through the air to avoid the projectiles aiming for his horses.

Astolfo's eyes widened. If you couldn't hurt a demigod, then render the mounts immobile—yet to him, it was a disgusting tactic only employed by underdogs. And when he knew that Vlad was seated comfortably on his mount, he watched in awe how Vlad moved his hands as if in trance, until a stake shot up, carrying his discarded lance which he grabbed.

"Hurry, Astolfo," Vlad urged, still flinging stakes at Rider of Red. "We have to return to the castle as fast as possible, for I fear their goals are not what we thought they were."

The young paladin didn't need another word. He clutched the reins firmly and told his trusted friend Hippogriff to gear up even further, flying as fast as the wind.

**: "I believe it is time for your rendezvous." :**

Caster of Red was moving the pieces as if he knew what each and every Servant and Master in this war was doing. Not once had Shirou thought of him as clairvoyant and he feared that this change in the man before him was due to the abnormal state of this "story".

What else could it be at this point? A mockery or a sham?

"You are right, Caster. It is time to prepare our trump cards. Are you ready to take hold of his reins?" He was referring to the 'cavemen'. They weren't a heroic spirit by any means but it was still all of humanity's savagery condensed into a singular entity.

The wiggling of Shakespeare's finger told him something else.

"No, no, no, Master. You think them to be a lowly cur from an Age far older than the Age of Gods. There is more to them than meets the eye." He held the white Go piece for a moment before tossing it to the ground, shattering. In its remains, a seed was picked out.

For some reason it began to glow as it grew of its own accord. Shirou's eyes widened when he saw it before the chuckle of Caster brought him back.

"A little parlor trick I looked up on that 'internet' a while ago." There was no way he found something akin to Magecraft on the internet. "Publicized by a certain Elmel-something or another. I assume even King Hassan in his ethereal knowledge does not know what our little friend truly is."

"What?" Genuine surprise overtook Shirou.

"My, it all has to do with that Noble Phantasm of his: [High Evolution]," Shakespeare explained with a laugh. "Imagine, just imagine, a noble man from prehistoric times adapting through the ages against beasts and gods alike! Just think of its possibilities! What if it ever had to face the Grace of another Grand Servant? Simply imagine it taking a form that shall grant it the might and ferocity rivaling those savages ravaging the ages! If I had to name it in a single term of the mystical ages:

**: "Rakshasa!" :**

Mordred released another volley of [Red Lightning] at the golems behind them.

Atalanta kept her eyes on her fellow Archer.

Meanwhile, Kairi leaned out of car and fired enchanted fingers at the enemy. No matter how much they had reduced the enemy ranks, for some reason, a huge amount of them kept forming disfigured imitations of life with even more ferocity and intensity. What had started as a ploy to separate Chiron from the rest of his Faction, had turned into a matter of survival.

That was, until the Argonaut's eyes spotted a figure flying towards them on a piece of rock. A shudder ran down her spine when she eyed the mannequin-like being and his golden mask. Chiron turned to the mannequin with surprise evident. She exploited it and shot an arrow at the newcomer, which was immediately intercepted by the golems behind him when they lost their shape and flowed like a liquid wall in front of the mannequin. Her eyes widened momentarily before a smile formed on her lips.

"It's time," she told Kairi who transmitted it to Mordred. They were far enough from the castle now, and it seemed like Karna was in a stalemate with the other Servants of Black, which meant that this situation was exactly what they needed to present Kotomine. Atalanta got up from her perch on the roof of the car, relaxing her stance.

Chiron watched her, apparently deeming her inaction as suspicious and shot her a look of surprise when she jumped off the car at full speed and rushing straight at them.

No one matched her speed. No Argonaut nor any of the heroes of Greece could, for she was raised in the forest and hunted beasts and monsters alike like second nature. Her sprint was seamless, yet for each second she became faster and faster until the air conceded and she became but a blur in the eyes of enemy.

Baffled, she watched Chiron put aside his bow before jumping forward to meet her charge in kind. She leapt, trying to collide with him while airborne and succeeding, clashing in a burst of dust and debris before being thrown back immediately. Both manifested their bows, now directly in front of each other. She feinted a shot, letting herself drop, and rush Chiron with an arrow nocked, still aiming for his head. The centaur reacted quickly, following her movement with grace and foresight.

The sage was clairvoyant. A fact she knew all too well but it wouldn't save him if she was faster than his reflexes. She grabbed his arm to leap over him and let loose, though he moved out the way.

Orienting herself, she called, "[Phoebus Catastrophe]!" She felt nothing but satisfaction at the sharp intake from the centaur—there was no prey she could not topple and hit.

An array of arrows drowned the battlefield, causing the mannequin to evade and shield himself with the golems. She grabbed one of the arrows heading down towards her target, stabbed it into the sage who met the attack with his fist with her full weight. She smiled in satisfaction as he winced at his dripping arm. She had missed her chance to take the centaur's life but that wouldn't be for long.

A large [Prana Burst] propelled Mordred across the battlefield and into a surprised sage. He had saw the [Red Lightning] running across the fields and decimating most of the pursuing soldiers. From the corner of her eye, a disheveled Kairi took ahold of the steering wheel. They had agreed that it would be safer for him to disappear into the night.

Chiron got out of Saber's range, expression full of confusion when he saw just the sword.

Saber grabbed Atalanta's hand, dragging her down to regain their footing, and both rushed Chiron. The centaur held out his uninjured fist, meeting Mordred's. The knight opted to remain unarmored like usual, though they separated when a wall spread in front of them. The mannequin was moving his hands in a sort of dance before some of the destroyed golems reformed into javelins and thrown at Mordred.

The blond released [Red Lightning] from her fists, grabbing the one for her torso and got pushed backwards from the force. She soon formed Clarent afterward to destroy it.

Atalanta took her chances in dashing past Mordred, not caring for the arrows of light raining down upon the four of them—how foolish for a Caster to wander onto the frontlines. She aimed an arrow at him. The wall guarding the mannequin was moving around like a living creature, something akin to a kraken if she had to be honest, and took each shot for him until Saber switched her attention from Chiron to the Caster of Black.

"[Clarent Blood Arthur]!" The wall of red energy plowed through the Caster's defense. He hastily rose more, one after the other, and gave an opportunity for Atalanta to shoot the masked Servant.

Time seemed to stand still, and disbelief formed in their minds when the arrow managed take half the mannequin's head, before reverting to crumbling dirt. A terrifying premonition formed when the golems' forms turned into flowing goo, separating the combatants for but a moment before something submerged from deep under the earth.

The Argonaut quickly reassessed her situation, finding Mordred immediately though she wasn't sure what to make of the knight's expression. She turned to her side; Chiron was putting space between them. When their eyes met, he smiled and motioned to look at what the blond was staring at. Warily, she did so, laying eyes upon a sword in a stone right before Mordred.

It was too beautiful to be forged by the hands of Man, radiating a purity barely rivaling its sibling. A sword crafted with the promise of victory and succession. Atalanta knew from the moment she laid eyes on the hilt glowing in the night that this sword was everything Mordred had spoken off and more.

And without a warning for the first time that night both of them heard, felt and saw the light—the light that exalts those who walk the path of knighthood and chivalry, those who died and those who desired for times long gone—it was far too beautiful for any other word except divine. Atalanta heard the soft gasp from the little knight behind her, the whisper that barely concealed her true emotion—the Argonaut dreaded the words that fell from the blond lips while she turned around and saw the bewilderment.

 _"Fa—…Father."_ She knew that look. She'd worn it once in her life and regretted it to this day. She didn't want it to be true but the look on the knight's face was one she had known for as long as the huntress had lived. As if on cue, she heard the screams of a Phantasmal Beast and searched the sky.

A Hippogriff flew at blinding speeds carrying two people, one of which leapt off at them like a reaper ready to take their victim to the afterlife. She wanted to aim her bow at him; instinct said to devour his enemies and friends alike but Mordred's hand stopped her. Stakes rose from around them in a circle as if to cushion the fall of their controller as he slid on their sides and landed before them.

"What are you waiting for, son of Pendragon?" Vlad the Impaler asked, his silhouette illuminated from the back where the holy light clashed with the fires of the sun. "Your wish is sitting over there."

" **He** 's here…isn't he?" Mordred materialized her armor and charged her blade, looking at Vlad with nothing but anger and displeasure.

Atalanta stepped behind the knight, readying her bow, watching a healing Chiron do the same for Vlad.

"Who knows. If you truly cared, we could wait, but I suspect you'd rather want to let your sword speak?" The Impaler smiled. "Care for a rematch?"

Without a further word, the warriors rushed at the other, accompanied by a barrage of arrow dancing around them. It was droned out by their deafening battlecries.

Yet the cry of a different beast broke through the night,

She had nothing but apprehension for the inevitable.

:: Part War Begin ::

When Amakusa Shirou Tokisada left Shakespeare to his devices in his room—after receiving a gift from the poet—he had already crossed the lines between the place the Servants were fighting and the place he needed to be. When he regained his bearing, he saw a young girl, barely appearing off-age with a thick tome in her hands. She had red eyes and appeared apathetic to her surroundings.

"I have been looking for you," he said with a smile holding out his hand for her to take.

"And we have been waiting for your arrival, Servant," a young voice said.

Shirou looked behind him, seeing the tear in space. Two figures stepped out of it and another fell from the greater heights where the Greater Grail had to be located.

It was the young boy he saw in his vision not too long ago—the homunculus Sieg, fused with a Heroic spirit—readying the sword he shouldn't be allowed to wield next to whom Shirou suspected to be Julian Ainsworth and his sister Angelica.

Both boys started to glow as if resonating—Sieg's crest ignited farther and Julian's arm glowing an eerie red before shadows formed around it—bandages ran along the dark-haired boy's arm and shoulder. A mask-like object appeared in his other hand.

Shirou narrowed his eyes, not believing what he was seeing while readying his Black Keys. The gift from Shakespeare remained in its sheath.

"Do you two believe you can stop me?" he asked while eyeing the girl who kept a respectful distance. He threw a Black Key at her out of caution but she had already stepped through a ripple in space. He quickly spun around, feeling her entering this plane again next to his goal but the boys rushed him with no fear at all.

Gritting his teeth, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada readied himself for yet another tiring exercise of patience before blocking the boys' attacks simultaneously.

::: Part Artificial End :::

_' "…" '_

_* "…" *_

Ritsuka: "…"

Mashu: "…"

_' "So we're just sticking with silence?" '_

***"Do you have any words regarding what we just saw?" ***

_' "Not really, wanna fanboy over Vlad?" '_

***"Really? The sadistic ruler of Wallachia? I thought you hated people who used violence and death as threats for peace? ***

_' "That's just the thing. This man has done the impossible while all the stakes were against him. Three times, and he only failed on the last. I mean, considering that Mehmed was gunning for his brother back in the day, it's pretty clear how they must've been treated, so I don't blame him for becoming a monster …It is the mercy he showed regardless of that that makes me respect this man, mercy for those who were oppressed, those who were willing to convert and those who needed help." '_

Ritsuka: "Wow, he's way different than the one we've met in France!"

Mashu: "Senpai!"

***"BTW how the heck did you get Blavatsky on your side so early anyway?" ***

Ritsuka: Summoning lottery.

_' "…" '_

***"…" ***

_' "Geez, I wonder just what you're talking about, you whale." '_

**::: TBC :::**

_A/N: I didn't mean for this chapter to come out this late, for that I apologize. Just a week after having written half of this chapter, my PC crashed and burned most of my files which made me sulk for half an eternity. Once again, I'm sorry but hey, I promised that shit would hit the fan in this chapter so I hope that I managed to deliver somewhat._

_Please tell me if you've enjoyed this chapter or if there are any inconsistencies I'll try to correct them the best way I can!_

_miguelgiuliano . co Thank you for keeping my head on the ground and stopping me from making a huge mistake! Thanks mate and do not worry for I will go farther into the Caliburn subplot in future chapters, just hang in there ^^_

_King0fP0wers - I agree that Apocrypha has some fun mash up options, though I hope youve enjoyed this chapter ^^_

_karenovera - Hm~ am I now? ^^_

_BrownJacker2 - Why thank you! And do not worry about the quality for I have an awesome Beta who keeps my head straight on the goal, after all all stories have to go somewhere right? ^^_

_Guest - While Magni sounds fun he/she would not work in this story to to my plan regarding Cavemen. Just hold your buttcheeks tight and let me tell the story, after that you may jusge me as harshly as you can ^^_

_Guest - Why thank you, thank you! I hope this chapter pleased you as well, and yes the Black Faction always got the Short end of this already shirt stick :V_

_Once again huge shout outs to my hero Emerian without whom this story would not be as it is! Thanks for taking time from your busy schedule to help me out!_

_Please leave a review or Pm me if you have farther questions!_

_Yours dear,_

_Sha Yurigami_

 

 


	9. Not Come

**::: There lies no future where ruins sleep :::**

When a Heroic Spirit was summoned into a Grail War, more often than not, only a specific, central "aspect" was summoned. The reason was due to the limited potential of the vessel and especially because of the fact that depending on the Spirit, their Origin and powers were far too great for the world's capabilities. The vessel—the Class—often decided which part of the hero's legend was extracted from the Throne of Heroes.

When Irisviel asked Arthur Pendragon, he had hesitated in saying, "The King of Camelot," as if avoiding the question.

In the cases of heroes like Chiron or Avicebron, the answer was "the wise man" which contrasted greatly with Astolfo and Frankenstein's Monster, for their manifestations differed due to their Master's beliefs. Celenike didn't care what Astolfo was as long as he was her plaything. Caules wanted a loyal Servant capable of protecting him—however, his interest in anime had influenced his thought process in his Servant's appearance.

King Hassan was nothing more than a fairy tale for the Hashashin, since he was their founder and grim reaper—not to mention that he was most likely a manifestation of death as a concept or possibly an avatar of the angel Azazel. Julian summoned him due to his oath making him a candidate to carry on the Hashashin legacy, hence why the founder was willing to help him.

When Darnic had asked Vlad Tepes which part of the Hero—the shield of Europe—he summoned, the Lord Impaler laughed, pragmatically saying " _ " which left Darnic both flustered and excited.

**.**

**.**

**.**

The light that exalted all those brave souls seeking victory and hope burst into the night, clashing, as hot as the sun. In terms of power, the sword triumphed over the lance, yet neither warrior held back, resulting in a deadlock.

However—

—a single roar pierced through the night while the air itself broke too many times for it to be something living. Not a moment was wasted as a beast trespassed on the second battle of lance and sword. A gorilla-like foot stomped on Saber of Red's back. The ground trembled as she faceplanted, unmoving.

Out of instinct, Kairi Shishigou used two of his Command Spells—make my Servant survive no matter what happens!—otherwise she might've died.

The Grand Berserker kept sniffing Mordred's broken body, still standing on her. Its clawed foot dug into the armor with such ease that it drew blood while the hulking muscles on the beast's back contorted and multiplied.

It was that very moment when the * Bell * sounded.

 **"Thy head shall be mine"** a voice boomed as the head of the beast slipped off its neck…

...one of its heads.

The Grand Servant of Savagery sprouted another head right after the first had been cleaved off, whipping around in blinding speed, to smash a fist against the flat of Grand Assassin's sword. The new head appeared more ragged, with animated hair dancing. Large, sharp teeth poked out of the corners of its mouth and its demonic eyes stared at the the retreating Assassin.

**"[Kazikli Bey]."**

**"[Phoebus Catastrophe]!"**

Countless stakes and arrows were shot at the beast just after it had grabbed Mordred's head with its foot and jumped away from the barrage.

"Get back here!" the Lord Impaler shouted, lunging after the beast, followed by Chiron—he fired at the Grand Servant with a barrage of arrows—alongside Atalanta.

The lioness was the first to shoot its head numerous times. With each wave of its claws, all the arrows were scattered.

Despite having only one foot, it ran faster than Vlad's and Chiron's best efforts. Only Atalanta was a match for its speed at this point. Upon realization, both fell behind the Argonaut; after a quick glance over the shoulder, she understood their plan.

She jumped, tensing her legs as, as they pushed against her feet and launched her with all their might. The fierce wind running along her neck felt eerie and disgusting, tainted by the beast—until the hulking form of a skull-masked knight bursted back in from blue flames, ready to repeat his beheading.

Not one to be second best, Atalanta accelerated even more and fired arrows at the Berserker's head once only a meter away. But it spun around on one leg before kicking off the ground with an earth-shattering boom, launched into the air. She looked at Grand Assassin; he was in front of her, and offered his sword as a perch. She didn't hesitate and the skeletal knight threw her at Grand Berserker.

Trying to grab Mordred would be futile, so she filled its limbs with arrows as much as possible—only for the beast to spin and destroy the sharp stream—falling for the ploy as the skeletal knight materialized again, cutting its legs off and moved to cut up the rest. Slabs contorted and reconnected almost instantly, forming a disfigured mess that was neither human nor beast while its fist struck Atalanta and Grand Assassin, knocking them off and onto the ground.

The beast convulsed, shrinking into itself, reattaching prana and mass, before pitch black hair grew on top like spikes. A somber-looking face with marks emerged. Limbs with bulging muscles held the frame together. As it fell to the ground, Chiron and Vlad attempted to catch a plummeting Mordred.

Neither had ever seen a man with such a massive build nor the markings marring its skin. Claws ripped out from its back with four arms growing, shifting around the original arms. The beast's body swelled in size, shooting them a look of pure malice as it prepared to stop their advance—a blaring horn from the sky kept it at bay.

All it took was a single moment of hesitation for another player to enter the field.

The gigantic shadow fell upon them and they looked to the sky.

Clouds were forming around its serpentine body. Eyes were drawn to its clawed limbs as the monstrous maw opened to release a deafening roar. The beast dived with astonishing speed, spinning as it separated everyone in swallowing Saber whole before trying to ascend.

The only thing preventing it was Vlad forming a massive hand out of wood and metal, ready to smash stakes into its hide, and Atalanta continuously bombarding it.

A dragon—an eastern dragon, she realized. The Argonaut never questioned its presence. The only thing that mattered was the child she swore to protect being eaten by this thing and the Servants of Black's aid until her insides were nearly spilling out of her mouth, barely catching the glimpse of a fist retreating from her guts and seeing the other Servants having the same reaction.

All were thrown backwards, with the exception of the skeletal knight who exchanged blow after blow with the Berserker-like Servant. To her complete horror, she couldn't perceive their movements. Both were mere blurs in her eyes and it baffled her that they appeared to be on even ground. She sucked up as much air as she could, grabbed her bow and aimed at the retreating dragon, if it were not for the figure.

What is he doing here?! she almost snarled when she laid eyes on the playwright, tied against the back of the dragon, though he was cutting it and let himself fall from the beast's hind leg.

She could hear the laughter as he gracefully fell on his feet from a safe height. Looking extremely disheveled, he could barely stand up straight. The human-shaped beast rushed to his side, stabilizing him with a soft touch on his back before growling in a way that reminded her of Heracles during his crazed moments, setting her on edge.

The figure of William Shakespeare stood before all with the beast in human skin standing behind him protectively. The beast's rotten breath had Atalanta's stomach churning in disgust but she didn't show it; instead she aimed an arrow at the playwright only to widen her eyes as countless pages danced all around her.

**"[First Folio]!"**

And she was back at the place of her worst memory. Back at the temple of Zeus, back under the hold of that accursed Hippomenes as he grunted like a beast, drunk from lust, ready to force her into abandoning her vows.

But she wasn't that woman any more.

She kicked the man off, ready to throw down the beast only for the man's face to shift and reveal Shakespeare's face.

"O maiden of Sorrow, what dits thou do under the moon? Ye incured the wrath of thy gods for forbidden pleasure. Yet was it not Aphrodite's curse that tooketh thy reason and life? O Beast of Greece, where dits thou go once the blasphemety was wrought?"

Atalanta gritted her teeth, screaming as she charged the actor enacting her tragedy, her nightmare. But his figure collapsed and she was pulled out of her own body to watch another girl taking her place for the vile beast to throw itself onto her.

She screamed and begged to make it stop. No matter how much she wanted to look away, she was unable to as Shakespeare prevented her from turning away at the sight of the gods' puppets, slowly turning into beasts at Zeus's behest. He kept laughing in mirth at her misery.

**: "My, aren't we unruly?" :**

Sieg was certain he was stronger than Julian. There was no denying that the two dragon slayers burning in his chest were far stronger and more resilient than the boy, who only had a skull mask on. Yet Julian was far, far faster. So much so that he couldn't even register his form clearly anymore. And yet, despite both of them complementing the other in such a strange way, neither managed to land a hit on the second Ruler-class Servant.

The homunculus raised his sword to knock out the Black Keys in mid-air, suspended, while Julian combined his **[Zabaniya]** with the Ainsworth magic in futile attempts to take the enemy's head or heart. The hand reaching out of the spatial rifts grasped nothing for each attempt. Therefore Julian grabbed his throwing knives, using Sieg as a shield to take the enemy by surprise.

But Kotomine couldn't care less about them, Sieg realized. The priest was offhandedly parrying their attacks while casting out his senses to find the girl—that much was clear from the way the Executioner stalled them. Amakusa Shirou didn't look as he blocked it, absently delivering a roundhouse kick to the homunculus's stomach.

When his back hit the wall, Sigurd chastised him, telling him to get up and raise his sword. Siegfried was pulsing through his veins, enabling a second wind to charge Kotomine with another **[Prana Burst]**.

Alas, the priest leaned backwards, disappearing before their eyes. Julian quickly moved through another tear, grabbing the priest's leg from high above Sieg—he only saw it due to Sigurd's intuition telling him to look up.

"I showed it too much to you, didn't I?" he heard Julian say before the boy slashed with his knives at Kotomine.

The priest smiled—it never reached his eyes—blocking each hit. "Set."

Sieg immediately charged his sword and hurled it at the priest and the Black Keys from above. His partner slipped through another fold in space right next to him, preparing another set of knives.

"Your mistake was not knowing about my gifts," Amakusa Shirou said as if anticipating both attacks. The priest released the six Black Keys in his hand, spinning them around and placing them in front of himself. "Now tell me where she is."

"I refuse," Julian said at the same time Sieg answered, "We refuse."

Both of them let out battlecries, double-teaming him from both sides. The priest sidestepped Sieg's thrust and was about to stab him—prevented by Julian casting a rift around Sieg's abdomen. A second one appeared in a similar manner for Amakusa Shirou.

But he didn't retreat, ripping space further apart with three slashes tearing through the ground right at Julian. "Set."

Another set of Black Keys were fired right as Julian was about to get away, forcing him to redefine the use of his [Present Concealment] and shifting his body into a space that was perceivable yet untouchable. The attacks went through him and Sieg seized the lull to slash at Amakusa Shirou to no avail.

Unable to understand his opponent, Sieg relied on Julian to come up with a plan to defeat this man. Otherwise their chances of succeeding were getting slimmer and slimmer.

It would've been the case had it not been for the arrival of several combat maids—first up being the strongest of them, Leysritt—brandishing their halberds. Amakusa Shirou was evidently displeased as he evaded each thrust.

"It seems," Kotomine began while leaning away from the attacks, "that I need to change my approach." The last bit was spoken with a smile that held too many meanings to decipher.

Sigurd was screaming into Sieg's soul—something akin to **[Instinct]** —that something was off and that he need to save their little sister immediately. Sieg concentrated his prana before shooting upwards a fast as possible; Julian grabbed his shoulder after seeing him fly by.

"What did you see?" the black-haired boy asked him while they flew at blinding speed. Julian had been aware of his capabilities from the beginning—being the one to teach Sieg as well—hence his trust.

"Our sister is in danger—" searing pain cascaded through his body, interrupting both him and the **[Prana Burst]**. They crashed into the nearest staircase. He chanced a glance at Kotomine, propping himself up with bloody hands; he was running along the walls upwards—the maids were still pursuing him—reaching them far too quickly.

He felt Sigurd's essence telling him to stand up again but Sieg knew that something wasn't right. The pain coursing through his veins was too real and but not tangible…a curse. Next to him, Julian forced himself to stand up. It spurred on something within him, watching the other boy get up as he lay on the ground. Using his sword, he focused every ounce of prana in his body, willing himself to stay firm in front of their adversary.

"It is futile," Kotomine said, swatting aside their bodies. The maids slashed at him from various sides, carefully cornering him as far as they could, though he was easily more versatile than any of them. "No matter how long you struggle, nothing will come of it."

Those words just made him want to defy him even more. Siegfried agreed, making him advance again but Amakusa Shirou parried his swing and stopped Julian's aerial attack with one hand. Using his body as a spring, Julian kicked off Sieg, throwing knives at the priest which then disappeared to reappear all over the place from impossibly close angles.

Amakusa Shirou, caught off guard, started glowing and space shifted slightly. The projectiles missed but Sieg's thrust from below managed to connect with the priest's handguard.

Black Keys were a special type of Mystic Codes capable of spawning blade after the hilts' blades connected with a shadow, pinning the target. Knowledge is half the battle, Chiron would say to him, therefore he grasped as much knowledge as he could against an enemy as overwhelming as the Ruler-class in front of him. But the pain from earlier coursed through his veins again and he keeled over, unable to continue.

The clacking of heels indicated a slow descent from the staircase behind him—he wanted to turn around so badly and neither dragonslayers reacted—but it came to a stop, ending with the sound of an object hitting the floor.

It was a straw doll.

Sieg's eyes widened exponentially when he saw the cursed object, recognizing the malicious voice as the heel stepped onto the doll to bestow upon him the doll's experiences of being crushed.

"Took you long enough," Celenike Icecolle said towards Amakusa Shirou, presenting her Command Seals to the priest. Sieg wanted to scream the moment he saw the markings on her hand light up. No! Not now! "I order my Servant Rider to—"

But before the inevitable happened, a surge of power cascaded through the entire tunnel and the stone wall behind Sieg morphed. He couldn't see it, only feel the movement, only watch the shadows grow, but he knew that this situation was far from over when he heard the voice of Caster of Black say: **"No more words from you, Miss."**

A giant replica of Avicebron towered over them.

Celenike's mouth had been filled with dirt that clotted and morphed into mud, preventing her Command Seal's activation and her ability to think straight. Not a moment too soon, the rest of her Command Seals began to glow green and disappeared into the mud.

"Avicebron," Amakusa Shirou began, but his eyes widened slightly and he looked to the tree symbol on his hands.

"You are talking to Solomon ibn Gabirol, the philosopher and Kabbalist, not Avicebron the misanthrope who neglected humanity for his studies or the murdered man who was buried under a yew tree," the Servant corrected. The giant replica threw a fist at Celenike. "Know your place, O saint who failed his followers."

The fist did not connect with its intended targets. Instead, the entire arm was shredded into pieces—too fast for the naked eye: Amakusa Shirou had drawn his sword and scooped up Celenike under his other arm and leapt for the higher levels.

Avicebron's replica rebuilt its arm and melted into the walls. An eerie glow traveled along the walls, chasing the priest and his accomplice.

The woman vomited up the dirt, shooting a murderous glare at the people below, ignoring the obvious discomfort of being carried by someone who was significantly faster. However, the replica trying to snatch them halted her stormy thoughts though Kotomine used the hurling fists as platforms and slashed them. He was still pursuing the girl.

"Why are you fighting, Avicebron? Do you not despise humanity?" the priest threw Celenike into the air momentarily to destroy another set of arms and dashed after her when even more sets tried to get her. "Have the lies of the Lord Impaler swayed you? The lies of a man who despises those who used their power for their own? Why won't you side with me to create that world you dream of?"

Amakusa Shirou didn't hear a rebuttal as he landed on the level where the Greater Grail was located, despite the countless copies of the Kabbalist waiting for him. He wasn't looking at them though, only the girl standing in front of the Grail and the woman—she looked like someone he had wished to forget. But the priest did not have the luxury to ponder, especially with a squirming Celenike. He threw her on the ground and as she got up, she glared but he only had eyes for the Einzbern woman.

"You resemble someone I know," he said, fully aware that there were no human members within the Einzbern family. Every last one of them was a homunculus and only cared for securing the Third Magic. He needed to be quick, as much as it pained him, and eliminate her to get the child.

"We finally meet, Amakusa Shirou Tokisada. I am Irisviel von Einzbern." Ruby irises turned to the traitor. "...so you did betray your own faction, Miss Celenike Icecolle Yggdmillennia." her tone was sad yet resolute and the determination in her eyes shone like a glinting gem in sunlight. Had it been under different circumstances, he would have tried to recruit her to their side.

He held his sword with both hands in front of him but instead of lunging forward, a white cloth appeared in the air, spinning and convulsing before engulfing both Shirou and Celenike. The words he left them while they tried to stop him echoed throughout the halls, like a specter ready to appear when he was least expected:

**: "It was fun while it lasted." :**

Achilles barely arrived at the battlefield when Kotomine gave the command to cease their assault.

" **HUH?!** " the Greek hero hurled curse after curse at the Impaler for wasting his time and Rider of Black who fled way too quickly. They were too scared face him, he thought—he dismissed that thought almost immediately since Lancer of Black did face him and even surprised him during their exchanges.

After a quick scan, he could infer that Big Sis was still struggling with their Saber together but he was certain they'd get away easily enough. Mordred struck him as a kindred spirit: brash and uncontainable energy. Whether that was for the better or if he was just getting sentimental, he didn't know.

Maybe he should lessen his comrades' burdens for once. _I mean, Odysseus did chew on me for not taking the war serious. Sucks that he couldn't be here, though._ Whipping the reins once, he flew down towards the clash of yellow and red. If that was the enemy Mordred wasn't allowed to face, then he at least wanted to get a good look at them.

The air intensified as he drew closer—like a clash of titans reshaping the very ground beneath them. From their movements, Achilles determined that Karna had the upper hand when it came to martial prowess—though their powers were way too even. Neither of them even managed to put a dent into the other from the looks of it.

When he saw the woman with golden tresses, clad in blue and silver armor, he thought he laid eyes on Karna's exact opposite. They clashed over and over without stopping even a second to rest, which made it considerably harder to interrupt them. Therefore he shouted: "Hey, Lancer! The priest told us to move back. He got what he came here for!"

Although the Hero of the Iliad wasn't sure what exactly that meant considering Kotomine would've needed to infiltrate the enemy's stronghold, go down to their dungeon and get the desired treasure within a few minutes. Either way, he stopped pondering when he saw the battle of sword and lance had stopped when both arms collided.

An eyebrow rose when he saw Karna and supposedly King Arthur nod at each other, clinking their weapons together and bidding each other farewell. If he didn't know any better, he'd have thought both of them agreed on a business agreement. That was how stiff they were.

"What is the matter, Rider?" Karna asked once he landed on Achilles's chariot.

He pursed his lips before redirecting them away from the castle. "Seriously, what's going on between you two?"

Karna rose an eyebrow at his tone but his expression remained as unreadable as usual.

"You talk as if you never had a rivalry," the Hero of Charity said with a small smile.

**+++ : "By the power of my Command Spell, please snap out of it!" : +++**

When Jeanne received the telepathic signal from Chiron, her heart went haywire. She already knew that Amakusa Shirou had infiltrated the castle but the vision that ran through her body at that very moment had her heart almost halt out of fear and horror. Of course she was the last one to arrive, as both Caster of Red and his pet had left long ago but from the looks of it, only one of the three Servants present was affected by some Noble Phantasm.

Chiron was well out off the zone for Shakespeare to affect him as was the case with Vlad—but they had their hands full with Atalanta. She had been right in the middle of that mess and went berserk, firing off her Noble Phantasm indiscriminately.

The moment she used one of the fourteen Command Seals at her disposal, she was already cradling the Argonaut's face with both hands, searching for the spark she had seen that very day earlier. But the only thing she saw in those emerald eyes was grief and fear. Therefore she choose to comfort the woman who looked so very lost, holding her against her chest and letting those ears listen to her—Laeticia's—heartbeat for she knew the look, the fear and pain as she had comforted many women and girls like this during the Hundred Years' War.

Whatever had happened in the Argonaut's past had came back to haunt her tenfold.

Jeanne's eyes narrowed, not understanding how someone could relish in the misery of others like this—she knew that Shakespeare was a monster in regard to the pasts of others and she'd scold him for his sins. She had seen the tortured and their torturers; she knew gruesome atrocities and she would never get used to their invisible tears.

Vlad Tepes regarded her with a nod when Jeanne glanced up, leaving them, as he and Chiron were instructed to return due to some unforeseen circumstances. Jeanne was grateful that they gave her the space to comfort a wounded soul—Laeticia as well.

"You don't need to tell me anything, just calm down enough to explain what happened. After that, you may do as you please," she told the Archer who was still laying limply.

**: "So they escaped." :**

Darnic was nursing Julian. The curse had affected the boy less than Sieg, probably due to Celenike's dislike for the latter, but that didn't erase the effects. Removing it was not the issue; one of the tributes to join Yggdmillennia had enough information regarding their crests as well as the types of mysteries in their disposals. What Darnic was doing was excavating the curse and placing it into a scroll, a Geass, specifically catered towards Celenike due to her excommunication process. It was unfortunate that she chose to secede like this but as long as the Geass was in effect, she would not be able to issue Command Seals.

"I am sorry. I should have anticipate—" Julian began but gritted his teeth when Darnic managed to remove the curse. Once finished, he continued where he left off. "There was a good chance that she would betray our faction but I still find it hard to understand how she managed to bypass our intelligence network."

The patriarch stood up, washing his hands in a basin next to the bed.

"It is safe to assume that she made contact in the same way Amakusa Shirou managed to infiltrate our castle." To see that figure again. The youth from that time when Darnic himself fought in the Third Holy Grail War. There was no way he could forget that youth and the madness in his eyes. "We have to strengthen our defenses further."

"The true problem lies with his Noble Phantasm." Irisviel stepped into the room, accompanied by Saber. The knight looked conflicted as she stood beside her Master during her explanation. "Amakusa Shirou's left hand possesses the ability to perform any of the miracles he was known for, as well as copy Magecraft that he understands, while his right cancels attacks and other phenomena. The fact that he somehow acquired the knowledge to use the Ainsworth and Einzbern Mysteries is most concerning."

Darnic agreed with that line of thought. A saint who was proficient with Magecraft and could use other's abilities once understood. He had to be doubly careful when engaging that man. However there was another even more concerning matter present, and he asked, "Have we confirmed how Celenike could leave her room and enter the sanctuary so easily?"

"No, we haven't," Saber said, not really surprising Darnic at this point—it was well known that Saber of Black was highly protective especially regarding her Master and Berserker. "However, I must apologize for failing to terminate Lancer of Red. Had I managed to defeat him—had I not followed him deeper onto the battlefield—I might have been able to prevent most of the damage." The woman looked down, downtrodden with a hint of remorse.

It was Julian who spoke up to the Once and Future King. "Saber, are you aware whom you were jousting with?" the boy was much more perceptive than Darnic had anticipated before and he was glad that the old Ainsworth patriarch sent this boy to them.

The King of Knights looked at them with raised eyebrows. "I fought Karna, the Hero of Charity." She didn't glance at her giggling Master. Darnic couldn't help but suppress the smile that threatened to form, opting to just listen and watch the situation.

"Indeed. Any sane person would cower in fear or respect for the famed antagonist of the Mahabharata, the son of the sun god Surya and brother to one of the greatest heroes in Hindu Mythology, Arjuna. To claim that you are his equal, O King of Knights; you are truly one of the greatest heroes who ever lived." Julian finished with a smirk and bow hampered by his injuries while Saber looked on, perplexed.

"He is right, Saber," Darnic chimed in, always conscientious of keeping the kings around him pleased. "Only a hero as famed as you could fight a demigod on even footing—even if both of you were holding back." He saw her eyes narrow slightly. Of course Darnic knew of the seals placed on Excalibur. The Sword of Promised Victory versus the spear, Vasavi Shakti, said to be unwieldable even by the Hindu gods. Had they truly gone all out, Darnic doubted that anything of Romania would have remained—such was the power of these divine constructs.

"On a different matter." He needed to change the topic from hypothetical fights and its effects. "Have you heard of the abduction of Saber of Red by the Red Faction?"

Arthur's eyes widened, wider than even Darnic had expected from the stoic Servant—before morphing into a look of utter dread directed at her Master who looked just as surprised. Understandably so, Darnic had feared that the assault on the castle had caused too much confusion and fear, becoming too apparent when two of the most prominent members of their Faction had not received this crucial information.

"How?" The King asked with both authority and rage in her voice. Darnic wished to disappear at the look. "Who was it that dared to harm one of my knights?" Bloody murder—those were the words drifting through Darnic's mind when she looked at him.

"We do not know why but Grand Berserker and Caster of Red entered the battlefield and—for a lack of a better word—kidnapped her with a Chinese Dragon. Lancer has informed me that they tried their best but Grand Berserker morphed and thwarted them," he explained as calmly as he could. It was not the first time he dealt with Servants but even he did not anticipate the sheer presence of the King of Knights or the horror he felt when Vlad looked at him in repressed anger.

"I see. Does this not confirm that Grand Rider is indeed in possession of an Arch?" Irisviel said placing a careful hand onto Saber's balled fists. The knight turned to her, bowing when she saw the empathetic smile. "Don't worry, I doubt that the Red Faction would do anything to one of their own."

Those were quite comforting words, something Darnic rarely utilized. He remembered being kind to Fiore once though he suspected that she was terrified of him.

Darnic released a tired sigh. the night was coming to an end and there was still too much they needed to prepare. Knowing the Lord Impaler, he would probably march into the room and announce that they had to rescue Saber of Red—

"—Darnic! We acquired the Master of Saber of Red," Vlad Tepes announced, slamming the door open.

Rarely did Darnic get irritated. He couldn't cope with the headache. He couldn't deal with the amount of unexpected events in a single night. This was the Third Holy Grail War all over again.

**+++ : "Now then, what should I do with you?" : +++**

Assassin of Red smirked, tracing a fingernail along Mordred's jaw before scratching her cheek and letting a drop of blood drip down. Not that it mattered in the long run. After all, Grand Berserker had left her in shambles already. Semiramis smiled at the defiant look she received. Oh how she found pleasure breaking these self-important fools.

The Knight of Treachery was tied to the floor of her throne room. Blood leaked from her armor and face.

Caster was sitting on a chair, watching in delight how the little knight's face contorted as she slowly came to, already trying to break free from the magical chains. It was a shame they were poisonous.

"What do you want?" Mordred tried to say, though her blood-filled mouth made it barely audible. Of course the Queen ignored it, grabbing the child's face tightly. Her smile never faltered, widening even, at Mordred's recognition and disgust.

"You, my dear, should submit to me," she said sultrily, making sure her fingernails dug into the knight's skin. The poisonous chains were especially tight around the little knight's joints where there was less armor. Blood soaked through the fabric. And yet this child refused to scream out in pain.

Licking her lips, Semiramis got up, and walked towards her throne, unperturbed. She thought about the amount of torture the child might be able to take before she would beg to be her pet. She was going to enjoy this.

"Say, Ser Mordred, why did you rebel against that esteemed father of yours? What was wrought about your heart changing and challenging the King you swore fealty to?" Caster asked with a soft smile, sipping from a cup of tea he must have procured somewhere.

Semiramis wondered what the need to ask was. This little traitor simply bit the hand that fed her out of some sense of superiority. But she did wonder what the child had mean about her smelling like Morgan?

There was no mortal soul that had not heard of Morgan le Fay, the witch of Camelot, archenemy of King Arthur…and mother of Mordred. To be compared to a woman who used her children like political tools…well, it did not matter. Semiramis would succeed where the witch had failed—after all, both Father and Child were in this Holy Grail War.

With a flick of her fingers, chains shot out from magical circles into Mordred's flesh, finally eliciting a scream to fill the hall. It was like music to her ears.

The Queen of Assyria sat upon her throne with a wide smile as the poisonous chains tore into her flesh—had Mordred's Master not used two Command Seals to make her survive, the child wouldn't be in this predicament, leaving a bored Semiramis. However, now she could be inventive with the torture. Semiramis was certain her Master would be displeased but he was resting in his room and she was thoroughly bored by the tameness of this supposed massacre between heroic legends.

"My Queen." Shakespeare stood up and bowed, walking over to the little knight. "May I propose another - _method_ \- to break the treacherous _King's_ will?" She already knew that whatever that smirk hid was more trouble than necessary but if it entertained her, she would permit it. After all, what is a court without a Jester?

"You may," she said just as Caster released his Noble Phantasm.

**::: The Courts of Camelot :::**

Once upon a time, the court of Camelot was filled with cheerful people, knights seeking honor and ruled by the Once and Future King.

Once upon a time, a little girl was held against her mother's chest as they watched, from the shadows, the King and his Knights of the Round Table strode on their horses, the court mage beside the radiant King.

"One day, you will be among them," the mother said with a smile. Her eyes were devoid of joy.

The child kept watching the knights with eyes full of wonder.

 **"Stop it!"** Mordred screamed from the bottom of her heart, watching the past play out before her eyes. She slammed her head into the ground, trying to regain her senses yet a cold and unfeeling grip held her head up and forced to observe as her younger self was lectured by Morgana.

...she recognized the hold, but it couldn't be. She knew the hand that took away all the warmth of her body as it was slowly burned from within despite the freezing touch.

When she regained some control, she tried to turn, fearful of the visage that was slowly revealing itself to Mordred. Her eyes widened further and further as they slowly stared into the cold, objectifying eyes of her mother whispering into her ears, "O child of mine where did art thou go?" and screamed.

Laughter echoed through Mordred's mind as she mindlessly stared at the scenes of a past she wished to rectify. Pain shot through her system, causing her to look up in utter shock and witness the imagery played before her.

She watched in utter horror as her younger self was forced through rigorous training, forced to wear that accursed armor, forced to age faster and screaming as her body endured so much agony.

She could still feel the scars as her body was torn apart and reassembled over and over again without a single comforting word from Mother.

She could feel the cold vice grip of death slowly creeping up her spine but always stopping short of reaching the spot where Father's holy lance tore through her body.

The feeling of her guts being torn out over and over only to be mended by Mother's cold, unfeeling hands.

She watched how her younger self was forced to wield her lightning—remembering the heat scorching her nerves, nearly taking away her senses.

Not once did Mother look at Mordred.

Not even on that fateful day when she had approached her in regard to…father. The knight screamed at her counterpart, begged for her to stop before it was too late only to once again watch how her Father rejected her—pushing her aside and leaving her alone at the Round Table.

Then came the pain again, numbing all the remaining senses out of Mordred's mind forcing her to scream in agony.

When the knight came to again, she was laying on the floor in Assassin's throne room with chains running deep into her skin and her entire body screaming in pain as she vomited blood. At that moment she craved beheading these morons and show them that the Knight of Treachery was not to be underestimated. No matter how much pain they were making her go through she would not crumble—therefore she spit at Caster of Red's feet who only smirked before those pages began to fly again.

Her eyes widened in horror, as her worst memories were replayed and another type of pain shot through her—poison.

She screamed, thrashing against chains, cursing in-between her promise that she will not die— _succumb_ —until she had both of their heads.

**::: Part Mordred End :::**

**:: _ ::**

_"That was was shorter than anticipated."_

_"Don't lie, mate…I can feel your anger radiating in the air and I'm just glad it isn't actual radiation."_

Ritsuka: Can we really not do anything?!

Mashu – I agree with Sepai! We can't just sit back and let something horrible like this continue to happen!

_"And then what? You think 'they' will just sit back and do nothing while a world that_ **I** _personally choose gets invaded by some self-important brats? Good luck with that—you'll barely set foot on that end of the story before something that really should not be there eats you alive! You duckies barely finished the second singularity and NOW you want to tackle something akin to a final boss?"_

Ritsuka: How do you know so much about us and what can we anyway?!

_"I can read memories."_

**"…"**

Ritsuka: …

Mashu – … That seems highly impossible.

_"Geez, thanks for the vote of confidence Miss Kyrlight."_

Ritsuka: Back to what is happening over there! We have to do something!

_"You. Don't need to do anything. I bet your time to shine will come but no matter what neither you lot or us can interfere even if we wanted to…that reality has already been cut off…anything can happen."_

**"Guess we'll finish the chapter with this."**

::: TBC :::

_A/N: Sorry once again for the delayed response on this chapter. I know that it took shorter than usual though there also is less length. Still I hope you're still buckled up for the ride because this roller coaster is not going to stop any time soon._

_Thanks once again for the hero of this story Emirian without whom this story would not nearly be as readable as it is! (shoutout to his story Fractal Scarring for educatingme in the legends within the Nasu-verse and in actual mythology!)_

_And I can pretty guess from the way that this story has barely gotten any reviews that this story is_ _either losing steam or I lost the audience with my antics in the last few chapters! I will not apologize since everything that happened and that will happen is for a singular reason that will become clear in the last chapter! Until then I hope some of you were able to discern whom our Grand Rider is!_

_Masterteo89 Thank you for enjoying this story so far and I hope that I can still deliver satisfying results for you! And yes Atalanta has also become one of my favorites as well so I hope you'll look forward to where I'm going with her in the future as well ^^_

_Without farther ado, leave a review or pm me if there are questions or if you just want to say something be it constructive or else ^^_

_Yours dear,_

_Sha Yurigami_

 

 


	10. Without

**::: Innocence is a virtue of the kindhearted :::**

She was dreaming, that much Frankenstein's Monster knew. She was dreaming, but not of her Master or his sister. Nor her past. Nor the Doctor.

But of—

—fields filled with stakes impaling thousands, bleeding out, while a white dragon sitting atop a hill with nothing but a little bundle in its arms roared into the sky.

—white castles with a lonely king on the edge surrounded by knights who did not understand their ruler.

—lands with dying beasts while a sage, shot by a stray arrow, begged for the pain to disappear by ending his life.

—a young lad soaring through the sky with a horn and a song about adventure as the full moon took his sanity.

—a lone angel sitting on a throne surrounded by masked corpses and skulls with a sword laying on his knees.

—a man withering from time's passing, writing in solitude, before his murderer entered, finishing his existence under a tree where new life sprung forth.

When Frankenstein opened her eyes, she was laying in the grove Caster had prepared for her. Something told her that something was amiss but she didn't care as the fluids around her started draining. She stood up, holding her stomach, as it grew emptier—a growl escaped—for the first time in forever, she needed food. She whisked away the grove's cover, blinking at the dawn's light.

"Good morning, Berserker," the little stationary mannequin at the table said after she exited. "There are some clothes on that table. I took the liberty of changing your dress so I apologize for the inconvenience."

A sense of worry blossomed within her heart as she dressed. It was strange as she rarely felt her heart "beat"—she looked at the mannequin again and grunted. He turned around, considering her, and she could see his eye. She blinked at the surrounding flesh but she did not voice anything; she was not one to judge appearances. The mannequin scoffed and tossed a crystal at her. After catching it, she marveled a little at the emitted light before noticing that it grew past its body and was absorbed by her skin.

Surprised, she dropped it, watching it turn to dust before it hit the ground.

"I certainly haven't expected that Victor Frankenstein created more than just artificial life," the mannequin said and she growled slightly. "I did not mean it as a jest. I am genuinely praising you—it is not everyday I get to experience a wonder up close." More crystals started to float around him. "I gathered these thanks to you. If you want, I can give you most of them though I wish to use at least a handful for my golems."

She grunted. He was hiding something from her and she didn't like it.

"Right. You still do not know." The objects returned to his table. "We were attacked last night. One of our Masters was stolen and Archer of Red inexplicably chose to not leave Ruler's side…" the mannequin summarized so many things that flew over Frankenstein's head though she understood the gist of it. "Oh, and before I forget—Saber of Red has been abducted by her own Faction."

Her eyes widened so much it hurt her face as she looked at the mannequin in disbelief. There was no way that mini-Arthur would be defeated or treated that way by her comrades! She voiced her thoughts but the mannequin didn't acknowledge it.

"I only summed up what happened last night. If you want to know more, then I advise you to seek out your Master or his 'companion'. They can fill in the blanks."

Without looking back, she stormed out of the workshop, accidentally shoving aside a very confused Roche, but she didn't care. As she ran, she realized she was moving way faster than usual, in fact she sprinted past her Master's room and too many maids before she came to a halt. She went back at a less frantic pace, opened the door and…stopped when she saw Julian Ainsworth and Caules sitting on the bed, watching that anime Vlad loathed.

"Like I said, Moeka and Homuri are a better couple than Sayoko and Kyomi," Julian said, massaging his bandaged side lightly.

"No, I won't accept that! Did you not see how SayoKyo embraced while the world came to an end around them? How are they not perfect for each other?" Caules countered, eyes narrowing "It's the Ribbon scene, isn't it?"

Julian averted his eyes.

"Oh my god! What is it with Ribbon scenes that make everyone choose that ship over the others?"

"You don't get it? It's the promise that those Ribbons represent…" Julian smiled smugly. "Of course, you would understand if you had watched the originator of the Ribbon exchange."

Frankenstein tilted her head in confusion. Since when were those two friends? Regardless, she grunted softly.

Startled, they tumbled off the bed and glared at her.

"How much did you see?!" They shouted, but she ignored Julian, looking at her Master.

She grunted, asking what happened, but Caules didn't answer right away. He rubbed the back of his neck, shooting Julian a look. The boy sighed before addressing Frankenstein.

"Since you weren't operational last night, I guess you want to know what happened." She nodded and he sighed again. "Of course. Last night Vlad and Saber engaged with the top Servants of the Red Faction—"

Frankenstein walked up to him, maintaining eye contact. "Morrr-drr-dd?" she tried to say, gaining wide eyes. "Morrr-drrr-d wrrerrr?"

Still no answers.

After leaving the stunned boys, she chose to find Arthur. Surely the king could explain.

As she walked faster than intended, she collided with Rider—he had been strolling the corridors—sending them to the floor in a heap. She grunted in displeasure from meeting this loudmouth again but Rider just laughed it off, helping her up.

"Hey there Fran-chan!" The busybody said with a wide smile. "Happy to hear that everything worked out for you!" The boy—girl?—hadn't released her hand. She ripped it out of his grip, absently noting that her joints didn't feel the strain and in fact felt really soft.

"Oh, sorry about that. Guess you don't wanna get all touchy, huh?"

She grunted, not understanding his thought process at all but he just smiled at her and followed behind when she resumed moving.

The mannequin had said that a Master got lost so she asked Rider what that meant. Or at least attempted to with grunts. However, it seemed that Rider could understand her somewhat.

"Oh, uhm hehe…" and yet he looked away as if embarrassed. "That, was probably my Master."

They stopped walking. Shocked, Frankenstein stared at Rider, since she couldn't understand how easily he said that.

"See here," he began, rubbing his hands together, "remember how my Master always smelled like blood? And was always grumpy. And mean. And kinda creepy with her whole voodoo shtick? So~ the Red Faction abducted her…probably…and I—we still don't know why or how."

Frankenstein walked away from him—he quickly caught up to her—she could understand now why Rider was all bubbly. His Master was Icelady, therefore she continued onward in search of Arthur.

When the two of them found the King of Knights in the gardens, her head was resting in Irisviel's lap. Iri offered a smile for Frankenstein with tired eyes.

She approached both of them carefully, since it looked as if Arthur was sleeping deeply.

"Getting all lovey-dovey?" Rider said. Frankenstein didn't understand why he smiled like that but when she saw Iri's reaction, she knew.

Iri flushed a little red, pressing a finger to her mouth. "Please be quiet. Saber only now managed to find some rest," she explained while Frankenstein and Rider knelt beside them.

The Berserker grunted, asking if everything was okay, and after some contemplation, asked what happened while Frankenstein went through modifications.

"…I—"

"Maybe I should answer that, Iri," Arthur said from Iri's lap, looking up at her Master before shifting to Frankenstein. Her green eyes were dark and angry but they weren't for Frankenstein.

Someone else.

"Try to rest a little," Iri commanded, despite her gentle tone. "Not only did you fight against the Hero of Charity, Karna, but you—" Saber placed a single finger on her Master's lips stopping her—in a way their interactions made her jealous but Frankenstein didn't know why—before getting up and helping Iri up as well.

:: "Where to begin" ::

Jeanne was glad that she managed to calm Atalanta down as much as she did. There were certain memories that should never be repeated or remembered, that the Saint knew all too well, especially when she was a prisoner of war and burned at the stake.

She continued to comb through Atalanta's hair, hoping that the action would still the Argonaut's heart.

Laeticia and Jeanne agreed that they should've let the huntress rest but the matter of Shishigou Kairi sitting across from her had her on edge somewhat.

"Maybe you should start with what your objectives were for attacking the fortress. You being here can be derived from that," Vlad said from the far end of the room, leaning against the windowsill. Darnic stood a good distance away from them.

The necromancer rubbed the back of his head warily. "The objectives were a certain artifact Yggdmillennia possessed and a person of interest."

"An artifact?" Darnic turned to them.

Atalanta sat up properly, looking at him.

"It wasn't the Grail but something else. The priest said it was the heart of a Noble Phantasm but we weren't sure what he meant," the Argonaut answered. Her eyes had a familiar edge which made everything more difficult. "I have no idea about the person he meant but it looks like you're one Master short."

Vlad grunted at her words. "I agree on that last bit but that still leaves another hole. Why would the Red Faction abduct a member of the assault group? Did you have a quarrel?"

-Terrifying…, Laeticia thought and Jeanne had to agree.

"Nothing like that. However, Rider, Lancer, Saber and I were going to demand answers from Kotomine in regards to this war and our Masters." Atalanta never faltered from the look Vlad gave her—having regained some of her previous strength and mental fortitude. "If Kotomine managed to hijack our conversations then it is very likely he sent out that 'beast' to ensure that we move according to his plans."

"Likely, but still—were you aware of the other Servants within your Faction?" she didn't answer, so Vlad turned to Jeanne; she repeated it in a much warmer tone.

Atalanta shook her head.

"What are they?" Kairi asked. His eyes drifted from shadow to shadow—of course he would be wary of the Black Faction's Assassin. "And that skeletal knight of yours too. I saw the whole fight and I still couldn't believe what I was seeing."

"That was our Assassin. Grand Assassin to be more specific. And his opponent was a Grand Servant too. Most possibly Grand Berserker," Vlad explained. Kairi and Atalanta looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"A Grand Servant?" Kairi asked, which was understandable. "I was under the impression that this Great Holy Grail War was supposed to be a war between fourteen Servants and their Masters."

"Stuff happens," Vlad said. "We don't know how Amakusa Shirou got his Grand Servants but their battle prowesses rivals those of the greatest heroes of any age or even above. Grand Assassin is the Hashashin's founder and is capable of applying the concept of death against anything. Another example would be Solomon—the King of Mages—therefore I do not believe I need to tell you how powerful they can be."

"Grand Servants? Plural? Are you implying that Father Shirou managed to do the impossible not once, but twice?" Jeanne took note just how well-composed Kairi was. She herself was struggling with the concept of Grand-Servants and yet this man not only adapted to the information but was already beginning to question its credibility.

"Our Assassin went to your fortress and was halted by Grand Berserker and Grand Rider," Vlad continued, though Jeanne suspected that he was glad that Kairi was quick on the uptake. "Since I trust King Hassan with my life, I regard his words with the highest degree possible—I even went as far as to alter my own Spirit Origin in preparation of facing those superior Servants."

All eyes fell on Vlad. Even Darnic.

"Now then, tell me why you are here, Archer of Red and Shishigou Kairi," the Lord Impaler finished, as if he hadn't just said something outrageous.

The addressed didn't say anything, for a moment.

Kairi was the first to speak up.

"From the way I saw you interacting with Saber, I could pretty much guess that you wanted to save her, as well for whatever you were planning. I used two Command Spells to ensure her survival and I've got a bad feeling in my stomach. I assumed the safest option would be to join you temporarily. After all, my own Faction basically betrayed me."

"Why did you not use your Command Spell to teleport her to you?" Darnic raised an eyebrow. "Surely wasting two Command Spells just to make your Servant survive—" he stopped when he saw Kairi's face. "Don't tell me—"

"I couldn't teleport her to my location. Whatever—or whoever—that Grand Berserker is, he made it impossible for me to get her out." the bulky man leaned back on his seat, fishing a cigarette out of his jacket's pocket. "But now that you mentioned how ridiculous those Grand Servants are I guess it can cancel teleportations. I also can't reach her so that's that."

 _If that were the case than it would explain why Grand Assassin couldn't escape from that beast_ , Jeanne thought, looking down for a moment, before steeling her resolve.

"If you'd like, I can replenish your lost Command Spells."

Kairi looked at the Saint with raised eyebrows. His empty hand fell to his leg as the cigarette reached its destination.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I doubt they'll be useful once Saber dies." Jeanne's eyes widened. "Think about it. They already got two Servants that are in the same league, if not above demigods like Karna or Achilles. Why would they need a Saber who couldn't beat the defender of this state—no offense."

"Some taken." Vlad chuckled mildly before he turned to the door as it was slammed open by King Arthur herself. Jeanne saw the raw emotion on the King's face, a mixture of anger and disbelief.

She felt Atalanta shift on her seat beside her. Chancing a glance, she saw the archer look at Arthur with a startled face. The same went for Kairi, just as flabbergasted.

"Vlad! How dare you go over me in regard to Mordred's Master!" It was a voice filled with so much authority that only a fellow king could answer with just as much power in his voice, despite his words being kind and understanding.

"I feared that your anger at the mistreatment of one of your knights would upset you with the Master. Though it seems your righteous fury is wrought upon me instead." Vlad chuckled. "You also brought quite the entourage."

Arthur Pendragon strode into the room, followed by Irisviel, Frankenstein, and Astolfo. The latter looked the most amused while Frankenstein glared at Atalanta.

The King approached Kairi, petite body brimming with authority, and said, "What do you have to say in your defense?"

Kairi didn't say anything at first, simply getting up and extending his hand to the King of Knights.

"Greetings, O Once and Future King," he said politely with a faint smile. Arthur looked at him, then at Jeanne—she nodded—and shook his hand. "I wasn't aware that the Einzbern had split with the Magus Association for Yggdmillennia." Kairi nodded at Irisviel.

"Circumstances led to it. After all, the Greater Grail is in possession of the Yggdmillennia," the woman said with a smile but Jeanne knew that she must not have slept much. Most of the Black Faction hadn't and she feared declining morale if even this cheerful woman started to lose her drive. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard a tiny voice grunting into the room.

"Grr-Morrr-uhm."

"I apologize, Frankenstein, but I see no reason to gut this man. He does not strike me as a foul fellow," Arthur said over her shoulder.

"Grr-mmmh," the Berserker-class grunted once more and Arthur sighed.

"No, we can't do that either. Even if his sunglasses hide them, he does have eyes. We shouldn't use torture just to get information and he seems cooperative enough to hand himself over to an enemy faction." Arthur patted her head with a smile. "I understand your concern for me but I too do not wish for you to worry so much."

"Uh-aaah-frr," Berserker said before her head fell a little. Arthur, for the first time since entering the room, smiled, listening to Frankenstein. Jeanne watched their exchange with raised —Laeticia as well—wondering how they were able to understand each other. Judging by the look on Kairi's face, he saw something similar happen.

"...that girl is certainly well-spoken," Atalanta said. Jeanne slowly turned back to her and the silent gasp that went through the entire room—and Kairi's open mouth—told her she was not the only one surprised.

Frankenstein grunted once at Atalanta, somehow letting the Argonaut joining the conversation.

"I apologize," she said, dipping her head, and admitted, "Had I known that King Arthur would be this displeased with his son's abduction then I wouldn't have instructed Lancer to keep him away."

"No, you need not apologize. H-had I met Mordred last night, then I would have said something foolish," Arthur admitted looking down. "Yet I cannot help but feel frustrated that some of the Red Faction have treated one of my knights with such disrespect." She looked at Atalanta. "Did you truly not know about Mordred's abduction?"

"Frankly, the priest has not told us anything of substance but he gave us more than enough reasons not to trust him." the Argonaut leaned back against her seat. "However, It worries me that I was not able to reach Lancer or Rider. The priest might've cut our connection, but if that were the case then I would not be here." they locked eyes once more and Jeanne saw two large beasts staring at each other, regarding another and nodding as if they came to an understanding.

"Gru-aaah-hummpf," Frankenstein quipped.

"No, I do not think that they would abandon me that easily," Atalanta said with a dry smile "Maybe they're just waiting for an opportunity and have me either do a suicide attack or capture somebody." The kings narrowed their eyes but neither said anything regarding that matter.

"Uuh!" Atalanta's eyes widened slightly but she smiled softly.

"Sure, go ahead, but be gentle. They're rather sensitive." Frankenstein smiled and quickly ran behind Atalanta's chair, and carefully touched the Argonaut's ears

 _Not Fair!_ Laeticia squeaked in their mind which Jeanne suppressed, although she wasn't too upset considering that she imagined them to feel as soft as Atalanta's hair.

"On the matter of our Caster…I cannot for the life of me tell you. The only thing I know is that he acts on whims, ignoring orders, or just messing with us ever since we encountered another," Atalanta said, as if oblivious to Frankenstein massaging her ears.

"Gah,grrr," the Berserker said with a wide smile.

**"That is no way to talk to a lady, young miss."**

Pretty much everyone in the room jumped when Arthur and Atalanta said it in the same tone at the same time. There was no anger in their voice but it held authority that came with age and understanding.

"Archer…" Kairi began but Jeanne beat him to the question.

"How are you able to understand her?" Jeanne's voice was soft, out of fear that Frankenstein would be offended, but the girl was still occupied by petting the ears as if it was the first time she ever touched fur.

The Argonaut blinked at the Saint, raising an eyebrow before smirking. "I was on the same ship as Heracles. His version of talk is not nearly as refined as this young lady," she said earning herself nods from the King of Knights.

"Ser Percival used to speak like Berserker. As did Agravain when he let his emotions run wild every once on a blue moon," Arthur said.

Although what the lionesses hadn't seen coming was Astolfo and Irisviel's rambunctious laughter. They promptly fell to the ground, unable to stop.

The King of Knights and the Argonaut blushed slightly at their actions.

Jeanne couldn't help but smile. Laughter was good. Humor was needed to keep morale high and people focused on a task. Even if it was unintentional, she was glad that these two hardheads didn't seem offended—she hadn't noticed Laeticia stealing control of their right hand, gravitating toward Atalanta's ears. Her eyes widened when she felt something soft on her hand and hearing something she had not expected to hear from a human—purring.

Her sight flew to Argonaut who only now realized that someone else's hand was on her ear which resulted in the Saint nearly screaming before retreating her hand so fast that it might have been magic. Blood surged to her face. Frankenstein looked at them in confusion, a hand still on an ear.

"Ahem," Darnic tried to regain the sense of seriousness—for which Jeanne was grateful for but the man was way too late!—addressing the Argonaut with a clear proposal. "Would you side with us, Archer of Red?"

"I refuse," the Argonaut said instantly. Darnic looked at her in mild annoyance. "I refuse to join the Black Faction, and unless my Master is confirmed dead or deformed permanently, I will remain at Ruler's side."

Jeanne blinked before a soft smile formed on her lips. The Argonaut wasn't looking at her but she understood the intention of those words.

"If I told you we were going to attack the Red Faction's Hanging Gardens of Babylon together with Ruler, would you join us then?"

Atalanta looked at Vlad. "If it means saving Mordred and taking the priest's head, then I am more than open to any plan involving those two objectives."

The Lord Impaler smiled at her words, chancing a glance at the Saint. She nodded, agreeing that this was indeed something that was best for everyone, though someone in this room still had their misgivings, apparently.

"What makes you all so certain that Saber is still alive?" Kairi crossed his arms, eyeing everyone present before finally landing on Irisviel.

"As you should know, the Greater Grail oversees how many Servants were summoned. Meaning that no matter what, us Einzbern are will always know when a Servant has perished." There was an obvious question in the air when she gave her explanation. "If you are wondering if the Grand Servants were summoned by this Grail then I have you disappointed you. Those two were not summoned."

:: _"The End is nigh huh?"_ ::

Achilles had to strain his ears to hear the priest's whispers. It annoyed him that he failed to realize that Atalanta got captured by the Black Faction and that their Saber was now resting with Semiramis. He opened his eyes, staring into the cathedral from the windows. Covert ops was not his forte—Odysseus would love his pathetic attempts—hence why he used mainly his hearing.

The news that Big Sis got captured came to Karna and him right after their retreat, at dawn. It pissed him off that valuable information like that was handed as an afterthought. He had complained about it to Kotomine but the priest just said that he failed to get one of his objectives, but that her sacrifice would not be in vain.

Karna sat beside him while they waited on the outside. Though his fellow demigod didn't speak up, his presence was very welcoming. It was like Patroclus was beside him again. But to be frank, Karna was way less talkative than his sworn brother. He did convince Achilles to remain calm and to gather information first—though Achilles had to stop Karna from confronting Kotomine on his own.

In a way they were two peas in the same pod.

Something stirred inside of the cathedral. He looked to Karna who gave him a nod. They stood up. They remained careful even as Achilles opened the gates.

What greeted them were two adults and a child.

One adult was Kotomine, holding child's hands while twirling her around.

The other was a dark-skinned fellow wearing ornate decorations around his neck and waist despite the rest being rather modest.

Every single alarm within Achilles blared. Every inch of his body screamed at him that this man sitting on that upturned bench was something akin to a Servant yet so powerful that it made his skin crawl with dread if he raised his hand against him.

The Servant glanced at him before leaning back and addressing Kotomine.

"Father Kotomine, the two stragglers arrived. Been wondering why they were sitting around like ducks outside." A pit grew in Achilles's stomach—he and Karna had chosen to remain in Astral form and yet neither could remain undetected by this…this thing.

"Ah, greetings, Karna, Achilles. Congratulations on making it back, I want to introduce you to someone." Kotomine began smiling that same open smile—Achilles knew people like that—and gestured to the Servants sitting on the bench. "May I introduce you to Grand Rider, _Noa-_ "

"Hey, that's only half of me, Koto! The other half is still _Urshanabi!_ " the man's yell was so loud that it nearly shattered the windows. Achilles stared at the man in horrified shock. Only now did he notice the stench…a very distinctive stench reserved for those that had way too much power than they had any right to possess.

"Right, but were you not summoned as Noah?" Kotomine countered at which the Servant barked a laugh.

"My Spirit Origin sure, but this body is one that withstood the King of Heroes without batting an eyelash. Think of Noah as a reincarnation of Urshanabi. Same with Hamar-tabal, therefore making Urshanabi the main body and any personality afterward for the Spirit-Origin." the Servant remained seated but his eyes were focused solely on the two demigods. "I mean if Grand Caster can just wander around, incinerating history, and Grand Assassin leaving his post to be a Servant, then why can't I also join the fray, being a Cavalier Class like the other two?"

Achilles scrunched his eyebrows in confusion but the Grand Servant just waved it away as if dismissing that subject entirely.

"What is going on, priest?" Karna voiced, finally stepping inside. His eyes fell on the child.

Kotomine smiled, motioning the two to enter further. When neither did, he sighed softly.

"As it is, the Black Faction is in possession of a Grand Servant. That is the reason why we failed to get our second objective," the priest said, leading the little girl to them by the hand. She was half the priest's height with beige hair tied into a high ponytail. Oversized glasses were perched on her nose.

"It would seem that Grand Rider did not like another Grand Servant entering a Grail War, hence his appearance at the Red Faction's side. Although it is rather a short notice," Kotomine continued and the Grand Servant scoffed. "Either way, something peculiar happened while you two were on your mission."

The child ran behind one of the benches in the cathedral.

"Now, if you would follow me?"

Achilles eyed him. Something was undoubtedly off and he didn't know what it was.

'Stay here and keep an eye on that Servant,' he told Karna, trusting him to obey, before following Kotomine.

They didn't walk long before something grew within Achilles.

It was a familiar sensation, as if he was on a boat. He ignored it for the other one growing in the pits of his stomach. The air grew tight as he stayed close behind Kotomine.

"What happened with Saber?" he asked, not expecting an answer that would quench his distrust.

"Saber was hit by the enemies Noble Phantasm and received damage to her Spiritual Core. As for her Master, we suspect that he joined with the Black Faction the moment he laid eyes on the enemies' Grand-Servant," the priest answered without looking back, going around a corner that led to a white door at the end.

"I advise you not to be surprised." They were in front of the door. Something settled into the pits of Achilles's stomach and the foreboding feeling that whatever was on the other side of this door made him painfully aware that something was even more off.

"Wait—who was that kid you were with?" he asked once his thoughts weren't a jumbled mess. That was what irritated him. No matter how you looked at it, a child in the midst of Servants, especially in this War, was downright wrong! ...how could his mind be so muddled? "If you don't answer, then by Hades, I will tie you to my chariot."

Kotomine just smiled, pushing the door open without so much as a word in return and light flooded his eyes.

"Hey!" Achilles yelled, trying to reach for the priest only to stop when he felt eyes on him.

Carefully, he turned around, coming eye-to-eye with a group of children. Each of them had Command Spells on their hands. His eyes widened.

"I intended to keep it a secret until the matter with the Black Faction was over." the priest began slowly circling around the toys that laid out on the floor before reaching one of the children—a boy that looked a little like a snake. "These children are your Masters at the moment."

A lie. Achilles knew that it was a lie. They were indeed their Masters, but none of them should've been children.

"Don't lie to me, priest." he gritted his teeth—and recoiled from those innocent eyes watching him. "What did you do to them?!" There was more than enough anger to scare a chimera away.

"…" at first Kotomine didn't say anything, carefully patting the children one after the other while Achilles seethed. But the sharpness of Shirou's eyes forced Achilles to pause. "Do you want the truth or are you satisfied with another lie?"

Without a warning, his head spun violently, recoiling as his mind wandered back to that damn Trojan War. He could feel the blood of Penthesilea, hear the anguished screams of Patroclus, feel Hector's dying breath on his face.

"Heroes are shining examples." Kotomine's voice was distant and there was a soft hand on his shoulder. "Heroes do not let anything stand in their way and do the impossible—"

:: "—Will you not be the hero of this Story?" ::

"You already figured it out, didn't ya?" Grand Rider asked Karna. "I mean, that little lie we told ya?"

Karna had been watching the Grand Servant ever since Achilles went into the fortress. The child had also been watching him, though her presence was far too alien in this place.

"It matters not to me who is on my side or not," he said, closing his eyes for a moment. "But unless I do not receive an explanation that satisfies me…" he summoned his spear but he didn't point it.

"…" Grand-Rider eyed him.

This was a man who was dutiful, Karna discerned, full of life and full of dedication to his lord but also hid darkness deeper than the ocean… Fighting this Servant would prove to be as difficult as facing Arjuna. That much became clear the longer he stared at the shipwright.

"Doesn't matter, right? We're both Servants under Koto, so let's get along at least."

Karna couldn't tell whether Urshanabi lied or not but the answer he received would prove to be something to mull over. He was about to answer when a sudden sense of dread surged in his belly. He turned to the girl, locking eyes, that had been hiding from him. She had a strange, self-satisfied smile before running into the same direction as Achilles and Kotomine.

Grand Rider hadn't moved, in spite of his solemn expression. Karna sensed the nostalgia's source from underground. Deep, very deep, in the depths of the cathedral was something that reminded him of the Kurukshetra War.

"Guess he woke up foulmouthed again," Grand Rider said making the Hero of Charity look back to him. "You probably already guessed but we got some beasts down there. Most of my little friends are harmless but there's this nasty one who doesn't play games. Please be kind to him when you see him."

"Another Servant?"

"A Berserker. Though I can't tell you who—or what—he is at the moment. Last night he became a literal beast but today he started to bulk up. It'll be a nice surprise for the Red Faction when they come though and Koto doesn't mind him eating Semi's little friends."

"…" from what Karna could tell it was the truth though something was thoroughly wrong with the wording the Servant used in his explanation. It was as if he tried to lie by telling the truth. People like Grand Rider were always difficult for Karna, even when he had been Vasusena, as a child.

He leaned back against a column closing his eyes, keeping his spear materialized. The two remained in silence for an hour. Neither were interested in conversation since it would mean exchanging information neither wanted to give at the moment.

The door at the far end of the cathedral opened with a bang. He immediately searched for Achilles but it was Kotomine who entered the room first, followed by the visibly shaken demigod. Alarmed yet inactive, Karna observed his comrade.

Achilles's eyes were devoid of the usual spunk. Gone was the childish excitement that endeared him to Karna and was replaced with the solemn face of someone who returned from a gruesome battle.

The priest turned to the two occupants, smiling.

"I see that you haven't destroyed anything," he said in jest. His eyes remained aged and nearly lifeless, something that deeply irritated Karna. It was not regret he saw in the man, and it wasn't fear or other dark thoughts. No, it was the look of a man who would do what was needed to be done.

"We aren't kids, Koto!" Grand-Rider said, only turning his head to see Kotomine.

"Sorry, sorry." the priest's smile was fake. That much became clearer to the Hero of Charity. "Achilles agreed to remain in the Fortress. Karna, would you join us as well?-

:: "—we are going to retrieve the Greater Grail tonight."::

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" Avicebron asked again but the homunculus only smiled before reaching out to cup the exposed half of Avicebron's face. "Once you become the core, you will become a weapon, a means to an end. I will not force a fate worse than death upon you." What had become of him that he would sympathize with a human like this?

"Do you not believe your own lessons, teacher?" the child asked with a smile, slowly letting go. He didn't want her to choose. Even if he knew that she was made specifically for becoming Golem Keter Malkuth's core. "Do not worry, for I will become your _Sephiroth_."

His eyes widened but he smiled nonetheless. The wisdom forgotten by many Magi and still forgotten by many who life in the now. The teaching every Kabbalist needed to call themself thus.

"How can you be so certain? You possess free thoughts on a much higher degree than your brethren. Wasting it by becoming a second—"

"To think that the man who wished to bring forth Adam, to become a walking god, would call his own creation a waste," the child interrupted. Her body was slowly sinking into the water. "Do not waver, great scholar, you who despise humans yet yearn to create your own—" now submerged within the water, all Avicebron could do was watch the golem's mainframe slowly opening up. "—bear witness to God's gift walking upon this earth once more."

She was fully engulfed.

Moments passed.

Caster of Black had awaited for this moment for a long time. He had carried the child under the watchful eyes of Grand Assassin to the surface—who remained silent—bringing her before his greatest creation…and there wasn't a single ounce of satisfaction. The child, upon meeting him, last night was ecstatic, asking him about the meaning of words, phrases and his texts' symbolisms and messages. Never had he felt torn up as he did in that moment.

The child wanted knowledge to become one with his dream.

Golem Keter Malkuth lit up. Green light erupted from the lake, transforming its surroundings with a shake that almost shattered the ground under them The golem rose from its confinement, touching the light of day for the first time since its initial construction.

Avicebron knew what he did was considered wrong. Therefore he took it upon himself to change something.

The Noble Phantasm opened its scarlet eyes just as the green light it emitted changed its color from green to red as well. And with the switch, its form also took a new shape, becoming slightly leaner, but retained its height, before submerging itself once again. Its eyes met Avicebron's—he knew tarnishing his own Noble Phantasm was wrong, but he created a heaven for this girl who refused to live: an Artificial Heaven existing within Adam.

"Golem Keter Malkuth is an autonomous Marble Phantasm that generates Eden on earth," he explained. "To prevent that from happening, I turned Eden inwards, meaning the soul(s) within Adam receive heaven while the Golem remains nearly indestructible since it is the shell—the guardian of Eden." Grand Assassin had forced him to abandon his dream, so he would give Heaven only to those who truly deserved it. Like the child meant for the core.

He allowed himself a smile and was about to put his mask back on when he spotted Vlad approaching him. There was a basket in his hand.

Their eyes met.

"Please tell me you don't want to have a picnic with the two of us," he—attempted to—joked and internally berated himself when Vlad fetched a cloth from the basket, throwing into the air and impaling the four corners with stakes. "I was jesting."

 **"And failing,"** Hassan said, much to Avicebron's displeasure. The skeletal knight was still recovering his left side. Though it looked better than the previous night, Avicebron thought, sitting down with them.

"Not just the three of us. I had asked Ruler to join us as well but I suspect that her keeping Archer of Red company—well, babysit—has her occupied," the Lord Impaler said with a smile before thumping into the directions of some trees. Avicebron wasn't sure if he wanted to believe his eyes or not but… "Therefore I invited Gordes to join us—coward that he is."

The -slightly- obese man was hiding himself behind a tree as though "out of mind, out of sight" would work, which he failed spectacularly. A stake rose behind the man, missing a certain part of him, which made him reluctantly approach the three Servants.

Avicebron watched in fascination how Gordes held back his excessive need to complain as to why he had to join mere familiars but not saying it out of fear for the two looming terrors ready to make kebabs out of him should he overstep his boundaries. The philosopher held back a chuckle when he watched these antics as Gordes sat down.

Vlad procured a bottle of wine, ignoring Gordes's shock, and another set of glasses for each of them.

As he poured the wine, he said, "Say Gordes, why are you even on Yggdmillennia's side if you can't be a Master?" He finished with a despicable smirk.

It was something Avicebron truly didn't enjoy. Vlad was everything he despised in politicians, especially in how he acted to unite unruly people under a more productive cause. A shame he didn't possess enough charisma.

Gordes seethed at the insult. However, he held it back and just drowned his beverage in a gulp.

"Could it be—did you need their protection? Did you insult the Magus Association or were you disgusted with their ways?" the Lord Impaler continued to add, but the man still did not answer, only gritting his teeth.

"When I joined with the Association, none of them were taking me serious. None! All they said was that I was just another attempt at stealing the Einzbern's magecraft—nonsense!"

The three Servants stared at the man in surprise. Avicebron couldn't blame their reaction; neither thought that this prideful man would actually start to tell his own life story.

"I only joined Darnic because he provided me with the means to further my research and provide my family protection."

"So you are a father. Where are they?" Vlad commented and Gordes glared at him. He let out a disgruntled sound.

"To provide for my family is natural. But the Association treated me like a sentimental fool because due to my being concerned about them. Bastards." he took another swig from his glass not realizing that Vlad continued to pour more once he finished every time. "So what! I perfect my studies, I earned my share of respect from Yggdmillennia and became the second-in-command! I was supposed to be the Master of Saber! And then that vixen showed up, those accursed Einzbern!"

No one said anything, just watching him become more and more drunk. The philosopher pondered whether he became this way because of his repressed anger or if the man was simply too oblivious to function like a regular human being. Considering that Gordes was just a human acting like a proud and powerful Magus, Avicebron respectfully choose not to say anything.

"Suddenly everything I worked for disappeared in the wind! All my efforts in creating the Homunculi—gone! All the times I hit a wall and surpassed it with my mind and ingenuity? Gone, because I could never match up to those inbreeding German sauerkrauts! None of them are even human!" Avicebron's eyebrow rose. "Everything went to hell after they came! Then there's **you**."

Gordes was glaring at Vlad. The philosopher's eyes widened behind his mask. As did Vlad's. "I know what you are doing. You're buttering me up before using me. Guess you can't really expect to persuade anyone with what little charisma you have otherwise." Was it the alcohol? No, this was Gordes's true self speaking to the Lord Impaler with the knowledge that he may die.

"I wasn't expecting to make it out of this war alive. Now that the Einzbern joined, I'm pretty much obsolete as a Magus and an asset." He drank from the wine, ate the food that Vlad laid out on the ground as if eating his last supper. "Do with me whatever you want but leave my family out of this."

"Gordes Musik." Vlad held up his glass, silently signaling Avicebron and Hassan to be more comfortable. "You never cease to surprise me. Had I known that you had a spine I would have suggested to exempt Caules by giving you his Command Spells."

Gordes started to cough, spraying alcohol onto the blanket.

"Man shows his true colors once he is faced with his own mortality," Vlad said with a smile. "Rest assured, Gordes, neither you or your family will come to harm, for I have a mission only someone like you can fulfill." The two eyed each other, much to the philosopher's amusement. He had not expected Vlad to remain so civil, though the words he heard next were what truly surprised him.

"You are a coward, Gordes. But a coward with a heart. I had lived with cowards who betrayed their country, betrayed me and everything they cared for, for their own fat bellies. Neither of them would have said what you did at the end of their lives. I will trust that you put that heart of yours to good use for the coming battle."

::: Preparations End :::

Deep within the fortress, a queen was laughing as she prepared her Hanging Gardens' ascent while the child she tortured continued to scream in rage and shame.

The child's armor was being corroded and chains embedding her arms and stomach drew more blood, spiking the frequency of her screams.

Shakespeare was having a blast as he wrote down each gruesome detail.

::: Prolouge of Part 1 End :::

_"Told you he'd go that route."_

**"Yeah, yeah."**

Mash: "Uhm, what are you talking about. Who is that Lord of Logic you keep on going about?"

Ritsuka: "…"

_"What existed before anything?"_

Mash: " …?"

_"The first to exist is the word. And that word was God. Because God exists, everything exists. After God was, Existence came to be and splitting up from Existence are Logic, Nature, Meme and Imagination. Because those exist everything related to them exist. Then after they were born: Destiny, Death, Destruction, Dream, Despair, Desire and Delirium. Destruction left his place, letting anything that exist cause destruction freely. Imagination was abandoned, causing creation to imagine freely. But the shadow side of Imagination is Time, hence the reason why the Lord of Imagination as he fell became the Fallen Lord of Time."_

Mash: "Wha—"

_"Keep that as just some random ramblings from a delusional man. There aren't many in this multiverse who would understand what I was talking about anyway, so don't think too much about it."_

Ritsuka: "Who is this Lord of Logic?"

_"The reason why every time Nasu comes up with some supposedly logical explanation for your universe. Without his and those that came after him, the concept of Logic would not exist."_

* * *

::: TBC :::

* * *

A/N I promise that the next chapter will be way more interesting than this one! I just need to put out some buildup for the upcoming shitfest and university is not kind enough to leave me unattended for the foreseeable future.

Thanks Emerian, and if you see anything that needs to be changed feel free to inform me or give me your opinion! I'm all ears especially if you notice that I could go with the story a little differently ^^

So...this chapter came a little late but hey at least here it is! Though the number of people reading and reviewing this story is dropping faster than I had anticipated, anyway to all those that hang on, I will deliver ya all an e-book version of this story once it's finished!

But without father ado!

blazenite104 Thank you so much for leaving a review just before the end of the year! I hope that the Grand-Servant stuff won't deterre you from this story though I appreciate your imput and will take it to heart! On the Noah bit, well it's Noah but at the same time its not I promise more plot-twists in the future!

Anyway all of you thank you for readying, do me the favor of reviewing about anything that caught yer eye and I'll answer them to the best of my abilty without spoiling anything!

Wish ya all a happy new year (belated as it is) and hope that yer gonna have fun in this story! And yes somehow I forgot to put on the Saber/Iri pairing thing so~~here it is!

See ya next chapter!

Yours dear,

Sha Yurgami

P.s. Btw way I had asked a fellow writer to write me a story about Mordred and Arthur reconciliation but they got a whole lot of bad feedback. I'm sad that some folks on fanfiction.net are like that but as sparse as it is the amount of Mordred and Arthur stories that aren't incest is way too low...Eitherway do me the favor and not hate on them M'k?

 

 


	11. A Price

::: When we were younger… :::

When I was younger, the world was cold, draft and distant…and a prison.

The walls of Mother's castle were thick and marred by the blood of hapless fools who sought the wrong choice for hospitality. She wasn't very picky when it came to her partners and I always wondered what she was doing in her workshop. Though I knew better than enter it. Mother always knew better, showing my errors and transformed herself often to scare me into submission.

None of my screams ever left these walls. She loved to use whatever she got her hands on to manipulate me, strip me of what little I had left and make me more powerful. I didn't have a childhood, and if I had, then it was spent within the armor I was forced to wear day and night. Every day I was focused on surviving the ordeal Mother prepared.

Day after day after day. The first time she took me outside was the day the King had returned to his castle. He was so dazzling and bright and…sad. I didn't understand why I had thought that; I still don't know why I do.

The King was loved and cherished by all of the kingdoms. The Knights of the Round Table famed and heralded as a divine force.

Mother told me I would defeat the accursed King.

And I couldn't believe it. How could I could I stand before those dazzling people? How would I aim for this king who shone as bright as the stars I glimpsed from my room, squirreled away in the dungeon? Why would I need to face this dazzling star, who strode toward the future with such unbridled clarity?

A king. Britain's ruler. The Once and Future King. Pendragon. The Dragon of Britain. All those were titles given to Arthur Pendragon. All those titles made me want to become just as great. Mother said I would join the King's court; therefore, I believed it was my duty to become stronger and stronger. I wanted to be beside this dazzling king who made the people smile with his presence and gave hope to uncertain times – who gave hope to me, a child imprisoned since birth.

Only after that did I really try and fight my way through Mother's training. It hurt, but I numbed the pain soon. My body bled, but my spirit would not rest – the dragon core mixed with Fae blood was agonizing whenever I tried to replicate the King's swordsmanship. I fought day and night while suffering from accelerated growth. Each morning I observed, horrified, how one of my limbs was suddenly longer or how my muscles grew overnight. But I did not scream like I used to.

I became strong and big enough for Mother to send me out towards the castle Camelot. I would join the King at his Round Table, prove myself as a worthy asset and solidify his rule before making it my own. Until the day I joined them, I was not allowed to remove my armor, nor did Mother allow me to see myself in the mirror. But all I wanted was to become a sword for the King.

And it was the job handed to me by the King's adviser Agravain.

The second I met the other knights, I became irritated. Gawain, a knight whose only feats were his kinship to the sun and his near-indestructible body. Gareth and Gaheris, the twins who were always friendly with everyone. And Agravain. Those were the siblings I knew of. The siblings Mother never told me about but that irritation I felt in their presence was everything I needed to know who they were.

In the beginning they tried to be friendly and welcoming.

Bedivere tried the hardest – he also had the softest heart so I imagined him dying first in battle, but not once did he leave my back unwatched on the battlefield and sometimes snuck sweets from the kitchen for me and Galahad.

Lancelot wasn't curt enough to not greet me once in a while. Though we usually ignored each other, I always caught him making eyes at all the married women in the court, and that in turn made it all the funnier when Agravain would catch him in the act.

Bors was a strange one, always honest and bearing his heart on his sleeve. He was kind but always fraught with worry since he fought constantly with the maidens – they nearly stormed the throne room to demand marriage proposals. Poor fella never broke his promise. As did Percival. He never broke his oath even when the King ordered questionable acts: like burning castles or fields to keep their lands away from the Saxons and Picts.

The same went for Tristan. I still liked to hear the songs he played on his harp – something even the King did not mind at the Round Table; I still remember the times when he played joyful songs instead of wailing his misery.

In the end my supposed siblings kept their distance and as did I, aside from when Gawain would ask to join me for a joust – even I am not foolish enough to claim that I defeated him when the sun was out – but he showed me how regal a knight in service of the king needed to be, despite the lack of trust.

Agravain especially hated me. The feeling was mutual, and he always sent me out to fight the bloodiest conflicts making me the king's shadow for justice, and essentially a dragon to keep invaders fearful should they choose to invade their holy land.

However, Gareth was the one who smiled at me the most among them all – Gaheris just kept his distance – going as far as keeping me company during raids and defensive battles. I still do not know why she was so friendly, undeterred by my rebuffs. Galahad at least had the decency to remain as stoic as he usually was and being the perfect knight he was, he would not allow an outcast like me to remain on my own for long. And truthfully speaking, I did not mind his company as he and Gareth were around my age and just as ambitious – it also felt great every time I saw Galahad interact with his father Lancelot.

Their interactions were the only times I ever saw the "Perfect Knight" 'and' "The Knight of the Lake" ever lose their composure.

Palamedes was a great teacher through and through. He taught me how to not waste my energy when hunting and he understood why I kept my identity hidden, he took younger knights under his wings despite him always complaining. But during a raid he told me that it did not matter who I was as long as I was true to myself and the King. Never did I ask him what he meant but, in his eyes, I saw the wisdom of someone who saw more of the world than I ever would.

Kay and Geraint were the big brothers to everyone or at least that was what they claimed. I did not understand why it was so easy to talk to either of them, nor why Kay was the only senior knight who didn't have a stick up his arse. He was kind and brutish and always the one who tried to rile up the King with a joke even if the King remained passive towards his jests. And frankly, I might have learned more from his brashness than I should have. While Geraint continued to tell everyone about the adventures, he found himself on, which even got the King to ask whether he truly went on such journeys and leaving his post while on duty. He had just laughed, neither confirming or denying.

And the King. The King was as distant as he was that day I laid eyes on him for the first time. Never smiling and always in conversation with Agravain about the stability of the kingdom, never stopping his pursuit for an ideal kingdom. I always looked up to him whenever he stood at the castle walls. And I always felt something. I don't remember what it was.

The only thing I was good at and the one thing that would help my king was to destroy anything that dared to defy his will. There was nothing more sacred than my oath, for it filled me with a purpose different from what Mother told me.

I pushed forward. Toward something that I couldn't name but was so very important to me.

I remembered him and wanted to see how far the ever-distant King can reach.

I saw Mother and I wanted to cry and beg for forgiveness.

Only later did I find out that I was the King's child…only later did I understand why it mattered so much to Mother.

I was so overjoyed and delirious that like a newborn foal I ran to his side and told him the joyous news…to me…but the King did not acknowledge my heritage. He did not answer me. He did not look at me.

All I felt was the pain and anger surging to the point that I couldn't help but lash out and curse this kingdom for all of eternity.

I became what I had sworn to slay for my King.

**::: When we were foolish… :::**

Vlad and Arthur moved through the ranks of their Faction in swift alertness. Not because of the impeding confrontation with the Red Faction but because the Lord Impaler was leaving his domain.

"Surely I already told you that you would weaken far too much outside of your territory," Avicebron stated walking beside the two kings. They weren't going to comment on the additional set of arms, suspecting it to be for combat purposes. "Should you so much as set a foot onto the enemy's fortress then your very gifts granted to you by your nation would disappear and make you as weak as I."

Two platoons of homunculi. Three battalions of golems grouped by design and function – one quarter was made entirely of centaurs with bows replacing one arm, while another was more traditionally armed: swords and shields. Another set was forged to look like hulking beasts wielding mace-like appendixes, while another set mimicked horses. Servants possessing a [Riding] Skill would lead the charge while the Masters, who were able to fight: Kairi, Fiore and Darnic, would follow them in vehicles.

Vlad exchanged looks with his fellow king. She nodded curtly before both of them turned around to look at the Kabbalist.

"That is exactly what we are going for. Honestly, beside Arthur and Hassan, only Chiron and I are so much a challenge to the Red Faction." He looked back to Darnic, who was ready to get in his car. The mage had been rather silent throughout the briefing; he suspected the cause to be several members of Yggdmillennia stationed in Romania disappearing.

"My senses are telling me that the Red Faction has united and will attack tonight." The Lord Impaler continued to stare at the sky. It was almost certain that once nightfall came, the entire Red Faction would more than likely take the Greater Grail. "We do not have enough time to evaluate the situation, Solomon. The only course of action we shall take is the dismemberment of the enemy!"

Arthur smiled and turned to the troops.

"That is what my [Instinct] is telling as well. Vlad, Avicebron, let us commence the assault as soon as possible. If we meet them right at the borders of Vlad's territory, we will be able to fight with no reservations."

The philosopher did not say anything aside from a sigh, at first. "All these kings and their selfish wishes," he said. "Fools who do not realize that the enemy is more perceptive than we give them credit for will never grasp the enemy's true might."

"Therefore, all of us have to be calm and be prepared," Chiron finished. "Haste will lead to mistakes. Knowing that the enemy is coming is not the same as being prepared for his arrival. Thankfully, both Caster and I have prepared the troops specifically for this case. And we still have the combined powers of our other allies as well."

"You should face Achilles," Vlad and Arthur said simultaneously.

Chiron looked shocked at this declaration.

"We lost our chance last time they came to our fortress." Arthur approached the sage, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Obviously we can't let them do as they please next time. We failed to reunite you with your student – for that, have my apology." She still saw conflict in Chiron's eyes.

He took her hand and gently removed. "Please don't apologize, Arthur, we could not have accounted for anything last time since it was our first battle with the Red Faction."

"Still, you have the right to meet your disciple once more." Her eyes were not focused, much less anything on the horizon. "The next confrontation might be our last, considering the might our foes possess. The least we can do for you is give a chance to confront your most favored 'child.'" The centaur's eyes widened and he nodded. The words she tried to tell herself were just as poignant to Chiron.

Without any further words, they mounted.

"Arthur, I want you to lead the army together with Chiron. Chiron, I advise you to mount one of the planes when Achilles comes into sight," Vlad said once they – and Astolfo – lined up. "Astolfo, I want you to always be in a position from where you can disengage from the battle. Besides that, try to keep Semiramis' aerial beasts at bay. And if you want, you may have some fun and disrupt the enemy's formations."

Arthur looked at her fellow King. "Why won't you lead?" she knew what he was trying to tell her. It was a fear so miniscule and old that most would have forgotten. The Lord Impaler, as great a leader he was, was always betrayed by his own armies. Soldiers and generals suddenly fled during battles that would've solidified him as one of the greatest kings in his time. Always betrayed. Always left alone. And even when he gathered worthy allies, he feared that they would only follow the tyrant, not the voivode.

"…" he looked at her. The plea was made without a word and she couldn't help but relent.

"Very well. I shall guide the troops forward." she held back a smile when she saw Vlad's gratitude via raising his spear against the heavens. She mimicked his actions with her sword. Its radiance pierced the night.

The sun was setting. Clouds rose and the wind picked up as if a great calamity was making its way to them.

"When I was younger, the world was simple. There was good and there was evil," Arthur started, and her audience looked up. "But over time, I noticed that everyone had this mindset. Everyone had a wish and a similar perspective. However, my sister was no such person. She was bitter and sorrowful and joyless. She dedicated herself to destroying me, my father's legacy, and everything I built. And went so far as to have a child to destabilize my kingdom.

"I lost my way. I lost my knights as I fought a would-be conqueror with the Saxons. And when I returned, the child I neglected out of fear and misplaced anger stood at my shores. With the enemy. With the treacherous court. With his fellow knights, displeased with me and my reign.

"Tonight – I wish to change what I could not do when I was alive. I want to save the child who did not know love. And I want to see with my own eyes whether or not they can change." Excalibur flared gold, as bright as any star above them. "I know this is a selfish wish, so I ask: who will accompany me? Who will fight with me and my fellow Servants? Who wants to see the coming dawn and claim their freedom! Who wants to change their lives and move forward? Let our enemies know that they cannot take from us more than they already did! Let us fight like brothers in arms for king and country! For freedom and happiness! If you are with me: let out your roars so that the heavens will hear and answer!"

Vlad was smiling from the bottom of his heart when he heard those words; as did Astolfo who loved and roared together with so many others behind them. This was the speech only someone with natural charisma possessed. This was the king who united a torn kingdom by showing them hope and a way towards the future! He would ignore the promise of freedom for the homunculi since that was not even an agenda that was discussed before – it made sense, however; therefore, he would indulge it.

Roars echoed just as the night fell over them all. Light from the Sword of Promised Victory would guide them. The ground rose, forming platforms which harbored the platoons – with the exception of the Servants and golems. All eyes fell onto the giant resurfacing from the lake. The water cascaded gently against its leaner form as it began to glow a soft mix of pink and green.

"Worry not," a voice said from within Golem Keter Malkuth. It stepped out, rinsing off the last drops of water and started approaching the front lines.

"For glory!" The Once and Future King shouted, charging forward, lighting the way. "Astolfo, take to the skies and let us know once they draw near." She didn't have to look back to see everyone following suit. Each of the mounted Servants ran forward with their respective platoons of Golems while the Homunculi were carried along on platforms floating around Golem Keter Malkuth who ran as well.

Avicebron situated himself on the golem's shoulder, watching in fascination how their little army ran towards an uncertain future.

"Each and every one of them," he whispered, and his eyes fell on Vlad. They met for the briefest of moments and they spoke through the mental link.

The philosopher's eyes widened.

::: When we looked for the Lost … :::

Achilles sat at the edges of the Hanging Gardens in silence.

For some reason, he couldn't recall what he talked with Shirou about, only that he was to become the shield for those children in the basement. That he would do – after all, he was a man who inspired others to become heroes. But something felt so very odd about all of it. He drew a blank regarding certain parts his mind, like a shadow. He was so occupied in his thoughts that he didn't notice Karna sitting down beside him, nor that the Hanging Gardens were slowly ascending.

"It is not like you to think so much, Achilles," Karna said startling him. "Regarding whatever is weighing on your mind, perhaps I can be of assistance."

The way his fellow demigod looked at him made Achilles a little ashamed. It was true that it was never in his character to be thoughtful, but this feeling of loss was still rooted deep within him.

It was then that he noticed that the sky was moving. Or rather, only now did Achilles realize that the ground beneath his feet was shaking lightly as if it about to erupt.

"Uhm, Karna? Wha–" Strange noises interrupted him –from the beasts within as they slowly left their slumber. He heard the screams before the large creatures, who should've been extinct by now, dance in the sky. As were countless other creatures, though they appeared to be of Semiramis' creation. It then became clear to him that the Hanging Gardens was flying.

"Seriously, how is Big Sis supposed to come up here?" he muttered. Achilles was not a stranger to loved ones becoming hostages – a fact that he would love to forget.

It didn't register at first that Karna was holding his shoulder until he glanced at him.

"Are you certain that Atalanta can escape on her own?"

Achilles narrowed his eyes.

"I do not wish to insult you, or berate, but do you truly think that something happened to her?" Karna's words were like a knife slowly twisting in his guts. As much as he wanted to believe that nothing too bad happened to Atalanta, because they were unable to connect with her and Kotomine witholding information regarding the aftermath made Achilles worry.

"As I thought, something is wrong," Karna suddenly said. "O great hero Achilles. He who fought armies, conquered Troy and inspired countless with his might. Whatever ails you is not the unknown but something akin to pain. But know that I will be beside you in your time of need."

 _Was that supposed to make me feel better?_ Achilles thought with a smile. Truly, this was nothing that should bother him that much. Indeed, he was in pain. Something told him he was going to make a horrible mistake and that he was going to experience loss once again – he did not fear death; he feared for what he would lose.

"Thanks," was all he could mutter.

Tonight, he would lose something – that he was certain of – although he didn't know what it'd be.

**::: What we found… :::**

When Mordred came to again, she was not prepared for a hulking mass of muscles smiling at her in such a disturbing way that she couldn't help but scream and reel back – only to hit her head against the wall she was chained to. She hissed in pain, hands still held up by the skin-burning chains. For this, she silently cursed her Master for letting her survive this long. But she was startled again when remembering the thing in front of her.

To say it was a mass of muscles would be a lie. That was a man so tall and marred with scars that he could give Gawain a run for his money in intimidation factor. The Servant was still smiling; he had slightly grayish skin and wore something she could only describe as torture garbs.

Was this the next thing that vixen had planned for her? To be violated by this fucking thing? Yeah, no way in hell would she allow that. But try as she might, Mordred couldn't muster a single ounce of strength, much less lightning.

When he raised an arm, she braced herself – instead, her head was patted carefully.

"Don't worry, oppressed one. I will free you," he said, trying to rip the chains out of the wall. His voice was rough and withered down to nothing but suffering.

The poisonous chains burned the flesh of this Servant, but he did not let go. Nor would he stop smiling. Mordred wanted to scream and demand answers but her throat was hoarse and the only thing she could spit out was blood.

Shakespeare and Semiramis toyed with her mind and body for hours – nearly the entire day – not stopping until Mordred lost consciousness twice. It was too much. The images of her past repeated over and over and feeling the pain and suffering of these accursed chains! And worst of all – that damn laughter!

For a moment, Mordred's vision swayed, and recalibrated when she felt her arm straining from whatever that smiling mass of muscles was doing. Her head shot up when the smell of burnt and rotten flesh reached her nose. A sharp glance to the side revealed the Servant's hands still trying to rip the chains out of the wall.

"L-Leave it," she managed to spit out, along with more blood. Her stomach was on fire, probably from all that bruising and the hits she took from those damn chains.

"I will free you!" the mass screamed, causing Mordred to wince. "There shall no longer be any oppressed. There shall no longer be any oppressor! I will free you, oppressed one! I will kill the oppressor! My rebellion shall not be stopped until all oppressors are defeated!"

Rebellion. Her eyes widened at those words. 'Rebellion'. She narrowed her eyes and screamed from the bottom of her lungs, "Just get the fuck off! I don't give a damn about any fucking rebellion and you can't even get those chains off me, so scram!" she coughed up more blood, even vomiting. But the rattling ceased. She did not feel any yanking on her chains. Yet –

Her face was cupped by the mad Servant, he was not smiling – he was crying.

"Do not give in to the oppressor. Fight them – they forced this onto you. Kill them like how they tried to kill you. Earn your freedom! Challenge them! Fight!"

Was this Berserker seriously getting emotional? Seriously, who is this guy that he could spout all this nonsense. …wait? Wasn't there someone like that? That famous rebel who stood up to an empire and nearly caused it to fall?

"W-Who are you." she whispered, unsure if the Mad Servant before her had the brain capacity to even form coherent thoughts. His next words made her stop squirming.

"Spartacus," he said with a smile before renewing his efforts – she noticed that his hands had healed and looked as if they transformed – this time, making his muscle mass double as he yanked all the chains of the entire floor in one yank, leaving a large hole in its wake. But he didn't relent, grabbing more and more of the chains as though he was freeing other prisoners – but was halted by conjured chains shredding up his body.

Blood dripped onto Mordred's face, just as she was about to collapse onto the ground, but a hand grabbed her shoulder and supported her dead weight. She saw Spartacus turn around to where the chains originated, thanks to the vixen standing at the far end of the cell.

"And what do you think you are doing, Berserker?" she said, and the maddened Servant just laughed manically. "I see. So, you took pity on my toy." she walked toward them leisurely, which irritated Mordred immensely. "But that is not what you are supposed to do. In fact, how did you even enter the Hanging Gardens? When we ascended, you certainly weren't here."

The knight's eyes widened at those words. Ascended? Did that mean they were flying? Her musings were interrupted by Berserker's laughter.

"You were naught but a few meters in the air. A little jump like that is nothing!"

"We were above the clouds," the queen said. "Truly, not a single Servant in this war will behave like they should be." Countless magical circles formed around her, chains creeping out. "Well, it matters not. I will make all of you know your place."

The chains, like slithering serpents, struck.

Somehow, Berserker grabbed Mordred as he sprinted for safety – even with the chains still in his back – through the hole from earlier. The chains pursued them, tearing up the ground in their wake. They convulsed, fused, spliced and struck anything in unnatural ways. Time and time again, their poisonous fangs were bared at them, yet Spartacus never stopped. He ran as fast as he could with Mordred inches away from being impaled by those things. He was maybe even faster than the car she had driven last night to the point where everything in her sight became a blur. Or maybe she was just losing consciousness. Though she could recognize a growing scent, close to the throne room.

Lo and behold, they crashed through another wall, jumping right into the vixen's domain.

Spartacus still managed to evade most of the pursuing chains. His boisterous laughter was devoid of fear and didn't even flinch when some chains dug into his body. He simply ripped them out through sheer momentum, resuming his charge towards the exit.

From the corner of her eyes, Mordred saw a problem. Her [Instinct] was screaming at her to evade the charging beast without looking back and never return. But when another hulking figure burst through the walls, all she could do was hold back horrified screams at seeing it come for them.

As if on cue, Spartacus threw her into a lonely corner before the collision. It was a hulking beast, barely resembling a human, with its wild mane nearly covering its entire upper face and most of its back. A feral snarl was paired with a body that kept shifting between male and female. The most terrifying thing about it had to be the countless hands, seemingly growing out of its arms.

It let out a deafening roar before its hand tore Spartacus open – somehow his body reattached itself as if it hadn't happened at all; then his muscles doubled in size. They went in for another tussle, straining against each other.

A shockwave flooded the halls, as did their screams. Spartacus dodged a punch and grabbed the fist to hurl it against the wall. It reared back around for another tackle but Spartacus leaned backwards, delivering a solid hit to its side and followed up with a roundhouse kick. The ground trembled and gave in. But the beast caught the leg, lifting Berserker with ease and proceeded to slam him into the ground repeatedly.

All Spartacus did was laugh as his body grew with each hit, gaining more and more mass and strength until he managed to get dig his hands into the ground to lift and throw it at the beast's head.

Blood splattered everywhere but the beast just convulsed again; it grew horns and sharper teeth. It wasted no time in biting Spartacus and taking parts of his shoulder with it. Visible tissue replaced it but the process was stopped by another set of arms.

The hands jutting out of the arm weaved around it and compressed. In return, the beast's body became leaner, shifting into a more feminine form. Two sets of arms burst free from its shoulder blades and a bone-rattling scream followed.

Mordred knew they were done for.

That was not the form of a human. That was not the form of a god. That was the form of a beast that had nearly ended all of life out of pure unadulterated rage:

Kali.

There was no mistake.

The beast rushed Spartacus. A barrage of fists from an arm hit home and would have ripped his body apart had it not been for his regeneration, but Kali didn't relent, continuously hitting without giving him a chance to regain his bearing. But all that hurt were the screams of that beast and laughter.

Spartacus was laughing. Yelling as if in pleasure, demanding even more. His form barely resembled a human at this point; he was even slowly morphing into a large beast.

"Hm, hm." Mordred's eyes widened when she heard that voice. With no strength to turn her head, she was forced to strain the corner of her eyes. It was only then when Shakespeare stepped into her line of sight that she could allow herself to growl. "So that is the form he took, huh?"

His gaze shifted to her, but she was unable to read his emotions.

"Remarkable, is it not?" he posed, as if presenting the beast to her. "Truly a beast worthy of its Grand title! He probably thought that this form would allow him to fight against our Berserker more efficiently. After all, even Durga caved in to her savagery when she fought the beast who could not be killed without leaving copies of himself! Or maybe this was his true form to begin with! Ah, a true protagonist for the finest of tragedies! A beast that does not know of its own name nor fate and only lives to destroy anything in its wake! A beast that did not even taste the **Milk of Human kindness** once!"

What was this madman talking about? Mordred couldn't find any rhyme or reason with this lunatic, though his words and actions reminded her of someone very unpleasant. A certain magician who was still imprisoned in his ivory tower at the ends of time.

Her gaze went back to the fight.

Spartacus was barely hanging in there, continuously losing more and more of his original form as thought he was going to explode – her eyes widened in alarm.

**:: When there was nothing… ::**

Achilles and Karna heard it at the same time. They hastily turned around and stared at the cathedral with narrowed eyes. Achilles remarked that he heard battle which Karna seconded. Yet neither could enter as long as that Grand Servant was standing guard. Not helping the matter were the countless beasts flying around in preparation for the coming battle.

The Grand Servant got up from the steps of the stairs he had perched on, going over to the divine duo.

"Don't worry about what's going down in Semi's throne room. Spartacus hijacked one of my little friends earlier and got down there somehow. He's probably being thrashed around by our friend. No worries there, right?" But Urshanabi suddenly looked up, sniffing the air in alarm. "No way – didn't think they were that ballsy."

The sound of a large horn ripped through the sky.

Achilles blinked at the fireworks in the distance, seeing the familiar Hippogriff bursting through the grips of the wyverns, slashing with his lance like a madman. A smile formed – he just loved daredevils like that even if he knew that his fellow Rider was no match for him physically. But before he could jump into the fray, a soft tap on his shoulders halted him.

Karna was staring at him with eyes that saw more than they should. Even if he ignored the obvious fight that was raging below their feet, even if he fought against the Black Faction, Karna saw what Achilles wanted to hide – the gnawing sense of dread that was slowly consuming him.

"I have your back." those were the words he did not think he needed. "Although, it is more accurate to say that I have your heel." and those were the words Achilles needed to cheer up.

How could he not? They brandished their spears with Grand Rider behind them, readying his little friends through a whistle. Large snakes towered over entire buildings, chimeras, dragons and their spawn as well as some of the Greeks' most fearful fauna. It became clear to Achilles that Urshanabi – Noah – was the most profound tamer of beast he had ever seen. But it didn't mean that Achilles was going to lose to someone hiding behind his mounts.

He jumped, summoning his chariot and flew into the night with Karna right beside him.

Upon seeing them, Rider of Black smirked before turning heel and diving.

They weren't prepared for the barrage of arrows as well as the airplanes on a crash course to the fortress, after following suit.

And especially not Achilles, when he came eye to eye with Chiron riding atop of one of them.

**:: When there was time… ::**

Semiramis entered her sacred halls. She didn't mind the countless fools trying to enter her domain – they would be dealt with swiftly –but what disturbed her was the damage done to her throne and the mess Spartacus left. Why hadn't that Servant not died yet?

Her eyes fell on Mordred who sat like the broken doll she was at the far end with Shakespeare, suffering his usual theatrics. It did not matter to her. The Queen summoned a set of chains to pierce little knight's limbs and pin her against the wall. If the doll was going to rebel then she was going to make absolutely certain that this was the last time such transgressions will be tolerated.

"Caster," she began, stalking over – though she halted once when she saw the displeasure and anger on the playwright's face, even if it was but a moment. "What are you doing with this broken doll? Have you not noticed that the Black Faction is attempting to invade my fortress? Go join the fight if you have nothing better to do."

Her words were as cold as they needed to be, for she saw something in this madman's eyes that made her do a double take.

"Truly, O Queen of Assyria, why must've thou interrupt when I speak to my fellow Englishmen?" That was not the response she expected. "If you really want me to join the fight, surely you know that I would not be of any worth beside being another casualty in this war! However, if you saw it fit to deploy me, I will henceforth entertain His Majesty with a play for the ages.

"After, all the end has already been written!" He announced with wild gestures before stabbing Mordred's should with a paper knife, whispering something before turning away from her and resume flailing. The battle of Berserkers still raged in the background. "What harm would it do to see that we make it more exciting!"

And he was gone. _Coming and going as he saw it fit. How very Shakespearian of him,_ the Queen thought, her attention returning to the little knight who still did not scream in pain despite the chains that were tightening around her little frame. Semiramis smiled when she saw bloody tears running down the doll's cheek, wiping it with one of her nails gently before scratching the child harshly.

"You have two choices," she started, caressing the scars she left of the child's face, almost like a mother. At this manner, the child's eyes widened. "One is to die like this. Slowly and steadily like a mutt. The other is to become my _little_ pet. But I promise to be a good keeper. I will feed you once a month and I will even allow you to heal those nasty little wounds – the chain however will never be removed. So, how about i–"

Mordred spat a blob of phlegm and blood into the Queen's face.

"Fuck you," she said with what little resistance she had left.

Oh, if it was going to be like that then the Queen would enjoy this way more than she should. She grabbed Mordred's head and slammed it against the wall.

Right then and there, did laughter broke out from behind her. Spartacus had changed his target and was heading towards the Queen with a speed that was befitting for a mass of muscles. She bit her lips, seething at the humiliation and summoned numerous chains to pierce the Berserker. Grand Berserker reappeared to punch him into the air.

"I grew tired of you, Spartacus!" she yelled.

The beasts in their tank were released and converged, maws closing around his entire body. The mess of snakes and body parts landed right before the throne, and Spartacus muttered something about love as the beasts feasted. The Grand Servant let out a yell before jumping into the convoluted mess.

She did not care. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the cur who dared sully her face. The Queen gripped the cheeks of the dolls again, digging her nails deep into the flesh, but not into the eyes – oh no, she wanted this cur to see what she will become as punishment.

"I will make you regret that." Semiramis said with a voice befitting a poisoner.

**:: When we were Legends… ::**

Atalanta watched in utter fascination as the combined forces of Yggdmillennia clashed with Grand Rider's hordes. In fact, she saw a boar closely resembling the one she slew so much so that she wasn't even thinking when she leaned out of the van – that Ruler forced her into – Shishigou drove to destroy its head three times over. As a Servant, killing that beast was far easier than she anticipated.

A hand quickly reeled her back in.

She turned back to see the concerned eyes of Jeanne – or was it Laeticia? – and understood her worry but the Argonaut could not answer. Mainly due to countless wyverns' roaring.

What the–" she heard Ruler say but Atalanta was more concerned about shooting down the approaching ones. That was what her bow was made for. To slay as many enemies as possible with the blessings of the gods Artemis and Apollo.

"Don't be so startled," she told Jeanne who looked at the huntress in surprise. "It was to be expected that wyverns would spawn. If a drake or two are still there, then they will indefinitely spawn those little pests," she spat out, still shooting as many as she could before they reached her allied forces.

Shishigou did his best not to curse too much despite his driving being relatively risky on its own.

The homunculi were still kneeling atop the platforms around Golem Keter Malkuth, aiming spells at any emboldened enemies. The only one who could be considered their guardian were Sieg and the one they called Toole. Both of them were coordinating their siblings to ensure the least amount of casualties but Sieg was more occupied with killing any Wyvern that came near him – maybe it was the Dragon Slayers inside of him but that ferocity only belonged to someone who had fought beasts over and over.

Atalanta could admit that watching those children struggle and fight spurred her protective instincts in action but she was utterly disgusted with Yggdmillennia once she knew that they deployed children in the body of adults. She bit her lip, readying herself to snipe as many of the flying enemies as she could only to halt once she heard it.

A roar.

Excalibur lanced through the darkness while all those who followed the king readied themselves for impact as a massive creature the size of Golem Keter Malkith with a maw that could only be described as a deadly basket of teeth descended upon all of them. She wasn't even going to try and guess what kind of creature that was but it looked as though it belonged into a world of pirates on the far sea…great, now she was reminded of her time on the Argo and those damned sea monsters!

That was no sea monster though, more akin to a reptile. Only a dragon could ever reach that size but would anyone be able to counter or defeat such a creature? Its black scales promised to shatter any spear, arrow or sword. To call it a winged serpent was to claim it could be contained beneath the sky for it even cleared the darkness with its very presence. As she looked closer, she picked out the wyvern eggs resting atop its back.

The only reason it didn't outright destroy them was Golem Keter Malkuth grabbing the reptile by its horns and wrestling it into the ground with enough force to split the earth in two. She heard galloping – a mare going by them at a blinding speed. When she glanced at the horse, she saw Vlad Tepes on it. He returned her look, motioning for the cars to follow him and stay behind. Just as the caravan was behind him, a purple light burst into existence in the distance.

" **[Kazikili Bey]**."

A continuous wall of stakes rose and were melted by the ray of destruction only to be replaced continuously. He summoned another one wave and wove it into a grotesque mess that exploded once it hit the beam.

"You have to do better than that, O Tyrant of Assyria!" Vlad yelled; he went so far as to gather them into a spiral which seemed to mold together right next to Golem Kether Malkuth, who took the oversized stake and threw it at the fortress in the heavens like a javelin, impaling any creature or foe that dared be in its way.

Vlad didn't hesitate in making more, until dozens of similar javelins stood tall against the heavens. Atalanta marveled at the battle between the oversized golem and dragon and its kin while also throwing the spears through them at the fortress.

"We are going to launch!" Vlad shouted, motioning for Arthur to continue charging forward.

Her sword grew brighter as it charged, most likely to tear through the hordes in their way, so Atalanta did the same. She gave Ruler a look, waiting for the nod before climbing onto the roof of the van, aiming towards the heaven.

**"The gathering breath of the star. The shining torrent of life. Take this!"**

**"With my bow and arrows, I respectfully ask for the divine protection of the sun god Apollo and the moon goddess Artemis.**   
**I offer thee this calamity —"**

**"[Excalibur]!"**

**"[Phoebus Catastrophe]!**

**:: What we were not… ::**

Karna was currently chasing after Astolfo – the young paladin truly did not care who knew of his identity. There was something odd about this Servant that was forbidden and Karna knew that whatever this Servant could do would be a huge detriment towards their forces.

The youth was smiling as he dodged the beasts' attempts of getting him and his mount, but his delight and carefree attitude were infectious. So much so that even the wyverns started following his flight path. When the Hippogriff did a barrel-roll, the reptiles followed, diving after them.

Karna flew with his spear aimed at Rider of Black, but the beast were in his way of successfully impaling him. He spun around, and onto the back of one of the beasts but by then, Astolfo had already flown back up to one of the Hanging Gardens' defensive mechanisms – which tried to hit him; he evaded it. The wyverns did not.

The paladin circled back to face Karna, this time with his lance prepared. Karna, in hot pursuit, jerked sideways to avoid the attack. He contemplated using [Brahmastra] but it became exceedingly harder to once a new swarm went after Astolfo. So, he joined the reptiles' flight carefully, marveling at the control Astolfo exuded while flying at breakneck-speed.

He saw the Hippogriff happily glide from one side to another, always nearly being bitten by the beasts on its tail. Astolfo was laughing like a child when they hovered after breaking sharply; the wyverns collided with each other in mass confusion. Karna leapt on the opportunity and their spears clashed – a surprise really, though one Karna was glad to experience – over and over.

Even if the son of Surya was holding back slightly, he could tell that the mount did not want to lose in terms of speed and mobility. Same for his rider who smiled widely to challenge once more.

However, as much as he didn't want to, Karna had let his eye ignite.

"Fare thy well, Astolfo," Karna said.

Astolfo just smirked.

"I don't think so," the youth said with a wide smile just as a roar pierced the air.

As well as a huge javelin right past Karna, stealing his focus and he missed his target by a landslide. Astolfo swerved in for a direct hit. But what the proud adventurer did not know was that Karna possessed **[Kavacha and Kundala]** , the sacred armor bestowed upon him at birth. It deflected the lance easily, much to the paladin's surprise.

"Huh?"

Karna regained his bearings and looked down on the dumbfounded Rider, raising a single eyebrow. Astolfo spluttered like a blushing maiden as he attempted to put distance between the two. Baffled by that display, something was welling up in is throat. He felt a sense of accomplishment, even though it was more impulsive, and he was uncertain if he wanted to laugh or if he had eaten something bad. Ruling out the latter, he decided to hold back the laugh, chasing after Astolfo. He was busy trying to entice the wyverns and other beasts again.

When Karna came closer he saw something in the paladin's hands, something that had not been there before. Something that had no reason to be in his hands. It was a giant horn-like instrument. Every ounce of his body told Karna that the instrument wasn't what it appeared to be, just before light exploded into every direction.

The paladin had managed to create a giant hole in the aerial defense, something he was certain the Black Faction would exploit – his eyes widened when he saw the towering golem change forms because of the mannequin standing atop it, still gesturing, and turned the construct into something he hadn't seen since his days in the Kurukshetra war. A lance the size of a ship, ready to be fired into the hole in. Before Karna could act within those split seconds he heard something flying past him.

It was a giant tree cut neatly into a log traveling at speeds that rivaled a Noble Phantasm only for it to collide with a rock formation. Then it slowly turned into a sword that the golem took and slashed at the opposing forces and objects targeting it.

"Oi, oi, what are you doing, you mannequin?" The voice of Grand Rider echoed throughout the battlefield.

The son of Surya turned around. Grand Rider was juggling trees in his hands.

"What do you think you are doing, fake Rider?"

Karna had to blink. When his eyes focused onto the mannequin, he saw whom he assumed to be Caster wiggling his finger from side to side before moving his many hands in a way that reminded him of Shura's and Asura's. He recognized the danger this man possessed and changed course for him only for Astolfo to chime in again, physically.

"Sorry, but not sorry!" he yelled, battering him with his lance, though Karna blocked it with his own.

Light bathed the night, dispersing like Indra's lightning, galloping toward the dragon and its kin. Karna chanced a cautionary glance at the might of King Arthur – the rival he chose in this war and one he felt the greatest responsibility for – before turning back to the other valiant knight.

"O great Adventurer, is that all you can show me tonight?" It was not a jest on his part, but it seemed that Astolfo disagreed, judging from his puffed cheeks.

However, not a single word left Astolfo. Karna rose an eyebrow at that as he was pushed back – until he heard it.

Grand Rider was throwing logs, breaking the sound barrier and the ground. All the while missing Caster of Black; he was moving himself and the golem around as if in a dance, but more importantly, escaping the assault. Offhandedly, he saw the brave little homunculus who had protected his brethren valiantly jump into the open hand of the golem. It was apparently about to throw him at Karna.

He raised an arm to guard against the sword, but the force still flung him into a cloud of wyverns. Because of this, he couldn't shake off his adversaries and the Black Faction began its raid on the Hanging Gardens.

The lance was launched – not by the golem, but by a holy light at its foot, slamming into the construct and igniting thousands of crystals Karna suspected to be made during the Red Faction's assault, earlier. Each time the light flared up, he saw it lift itself higher, culminating in Saber of Black unleashing the full might of Excalibur – exactly when the giant golem grabbed and directed it towards the flying fortress – and swatted it into its target.

The sun's radiance burst free of his body, forcing Astolfo away and into the lance. However, the Lord Impaler had caught Astolfo before he went splat. His mount recovered and was ready to rush Karna, but he had other priorities. Three huge presences made themselves known on the ground:

King Arthur, Caster of Black and his Noble Phantasm.

If possible, Karna will face all of them at once. Even with the army of beasts by his side, experience had taught him that there were no certainties in war and that anything could happen. He lifted his spear while murmuring a prayer for his father before letting the sun descend.

**:: "What we became" ::**

Caster of Red was strolling through the corridors of the fortress. He knew that his fellow writer on the ground was playing a game. He'd seek him out after after bestowing more tragedy upon his enemies. 'But what is a tragedy and when would it become a comedy?'. A smile blossomed when he thought about what sort of chaos a well-placed line or gesture would bring forth.

Of course, he wasn't prepared to nearly be impaled by a giant stick made of everything vile and nothing good which broke through stone and ground of their little mobile fortress. Quickly composing himself – brushing his mustache, checking his hair and licking his lips while also making sure that he was unharmed – he watched in utter fascination how crystal-like structures imbedded into the structure pulsed brightly.

"My – " he opened his mouth but stopped when he felt the hairs on his nape stand up; he scampered away before the lance opened and –

– exploded.

He coughed, thanking his skill **[Self-Preservation]** , though he lamented the state of his surroundings. Truly befitting for a shut-in and his Impaling buddy to think up a granate that shot stakes everywhere.

Shakespeare blinked at the ruined floor; his attention drawn and kept. Clusters of purplish veins were growing where the lance's aftermath was…no, it looked to be that they were converting the fortress's floors.

"Hm~ hm~ Could it be? Has the mannequin lost his mind or does he desire to take over this very castle to make it his own?" Shakespeare muttered before jumping back with a screech befitting a fair maiden when the conversion had almost reached him. He looked at the crawling expansion for a moment, then turned around and marching into the opposite direction.

As much as he wanted to stick around, even he himself would not dare go where death was surely lurking. Alas, there was a sound from above, very reminiscent of the one he just encountered. Then another beneath his feet.

He let out a rather frightened laugh, slowly turning around to look – only to scream in horror as everything started to convert to the cluster before those clotted together and formed something akin to a humanoid figure.

"Oh, so those must be those fabled Golems?" Shakespeare said as sweat dripped from his brow – and sprinted as fast as his little writer legs allowed him.

The newly formed golem noticed him immediately, roaring as they chased after him. Of course they would. 'There is no way the Black Faction wouldn't live up to their name to make this war into a British comedy!' Shakespeare let out a soft laugh, patting himself on the shoulder.

He ran up the stairs, toward the higher levels, avoiding most of the defensive mechanisms that Semiramis planted throughout her palace which would hopefully obstruct his pursuers. Shakespeare didn't chance a look back – especially not when he heard the deformed gurgling of a phantom or two rounding up corner after corner until he came to a screeching halt, right in front of a battalion of maids accompanied by whom he assumed to be the fabled homunculi.

"Oh! No!" he nearly yelled right when they all turned to him.

"Enemy Servant identified," the maid with a huge halberd said. "Begin extermination."

All the children present took up their weapons pointing their very sharp and very lethal tips at him.

There was no way he would face this many on his own! He dared looking back when he heard something hitting the walls. His eyes bulged out of their sockets upon witnessing the maids sprinting on them and taking care of the turrets.

He would've laughed if it had been anyone else in his position but no, of course it must've been him! He couldn't help lamenting more, letting the tortured child know – he should have kept 'that' to himself had he known that he would be chased through this dank castle all on his own.

Rounding up another corner he nearly shrieked when he came eye to eye with the golems from earlier – now numbering in the hundreds – rising from the walls and ground like the spawn of the devil, ready and roaring as if they were alive.

They stood up and ran towards him – with any luck they would attack his other pursuers, he thought but to his horror some of the homunculi shot something, which he dodged, into the golems and somehow it made them turn to him with thirst and savagery, raising their arms to splatter Shakespeare against the wall.

Or they would have, had it not been for Fortuna smiling upon him when the beasts of Grand Rider stormed the other ends of the halls or broke through the floor.

From there, a chaotic bloodbath ensued.

Shakespeare took his sweet time to secure his escape route by bowing to the unleashed mayhem and excused himself to go up another flight of stairs.

 _Truly, what a nightmare of a night this has become!_ he thought while dusting himself off, starting from the shoulders to his cape and the rest of his attire, overflowing with confidence.

Confidence that immediately ran away like a rabbit when he heard a familiar voice coming from the top of the stairs.

"My, what a surprise. To think that I would encounter the famed Caster of Red before the others," Vlad Tepes said, waiting for Shakespeare to reach him. All of the playwright's instincts – as pitiful as they were – screamed at him to retreat or just jump into the nearest hole.

But he did neither. Instead he embraced the plight, walking confidently over to the Lord Impaler before bowing and offering his hand. "I believe we weren't introduced: William Shakespeare, playwright extraordinaire!"

Of course the other Servant would look at him in suspicion. Though the Lancer indeed returned the handshake – how rather civil of a man famed for his savagery, Shakespeare thought with a smile.

"What brings you to our humble abode, Lord of Wallachia? I do not see nor hear any of your Faction. Could it be, have you lost your sanity and choose to storm into your enemies' fortress all on your own?"

The man laughed softly at William's theatrics.

"Nay. As much as it pains me, our _landing_ has been thoroughly screwed up due to Her Tyrannical Majesty's defenses. For you see, we have been separated. Alas, it seems that fortune sided with me in meeting you. After all, I have come forth in search for you, O playwright of ages, whose works have brought many joys and many sorrows."

Oh, the delight that shot through his core and body. Oh, the joy of hearing the praise! Yet something did not sit right with him, therefore he asked with a careful ear and mournful voice, "What is it that you've sought me for, O Lord Repenter? Hath thou heard of the joys and tragedies that were brought forth by thy truly's Noble Phantasm and choose to abhor reason in search for…?"

Without a warning, several stakes rose from the ground, aimed at Shakespeare's face – unfortunately for Vlad, they were pitiful compared to their brethren, when they pierced the Queen's Hanging Gardens. A fact that Lancer of Black seemed to have realized as well for the disdain marred his face with a scowl.

"It seemeth to me that thou are unused to another monarch's territory?"

Instead of displeasure, however, a different reaction greeted William – one he truly had not seen coming – for it was a smile as unkind as it was foreboding. Either way it was the truest essence of joy he felt when being looked at by such a creature as the one who stood before him.

"It seems likely. However – " the Servant raised his lance, spinning it before carefully placing the bladed tip against Shakespeare's shoulder, " – even so, I am still off the Three Knight Classes. If I were you, I would think twice before challenging me."

A bluff. One well practiced which Shakespeare suspected to be natural considering the man that stood before him. Shakespeare's smile didn't reach his eyes.

"O great Impaler, once more I ask thee: What is what you ask of me?"

Lancer of Black watched him carefully. William Shakespeare knew what was needed to break a spirit as tormented as such, yet where would be the fun?

"Will you not assist me?" Another one?! Shakespeare couldn't believe his ears upon hearing yet another unexpected twist! How could he still himself upon hearing such a delightfully ignorant question? Why else would he allow his expression to shift to surprise before turning it into a visage of jest and hilarity!

"Thou must be joking, O Murdering Lord! O Lord of Torture! Thou can't be of sound mind if thou truly asked this off me?"

"What is there to laugh about, Caster of Red?" Vlad's voice was low, eyes surprisingly neutral. "The only thing that would allow me to save the child whom you're surely taught a lesson or two is to take one of their tormentors…and since I doubt that you would survive a single hit off my lance, I wish to challenge the tyrant in her throne room before I impale you from the arse up to your vile mouth."

Shakespeare scooted away from the lance and the man that had awaited him. This was not what he anticipated…therefore he let out his most boisterous laughter! The night was dim, the moon was shadowed, the clouds were ridden by beasts and reptiles alike – it was as if hell itself wrought upon it a party for the ages and yet this madman declared that he would fight the Queen herself with his stakes!

"It would be funny if it wasn't that pathetic," Shakespeare said, seeing the surprised look on Vlad's face. And before the lance could impale him, the playwright saw it fit to break this foul who challenged the heavens and their holy mission with the ultimate show befitting a man who could only watch the world burn before him without a single soul calling out to him in joy!

**"[First Folio]."**

Pages rose from him, from the Lord Impaler, the ground and even the walls as the scenery replaced itself with images befitting Vladimir Tepes – for they were the life he dared to live while accomplishing nothing!

**::: When we were younger… :::**

When I was younger the world was frightening, cold and lonely…like a prison.

My father would put a hand on my head softly, promising me and my brother that we will be well treated. That Wallachia would always be our home and that once we earned our share in this world we would return and be treated like heroes.

I had not cried when we were then given to the Sultan's envoy. In fact, it was thanks to Radu who put his hand on my shoulder that I felt reassured that this journey might indeed be an adventure. Like the ones Father and his father went on together with the Order of the Dragon. I loved those tales as any child would and I found myself entranced with the bravery and chivalry our Grandfather possessed. As children, we would always tell our father that we would become the next Dracul, that we would become worthy sons to the Dragon.

Oh, how wrong we were.

Once we were in the midst of the Ottoman Empire we were surrounded strangers. We saw with our own eyes how women were treated like prized objects, unable to disobey. We saw how they amassed riches from every corner of their empire, carried by people who looked no different from me and my brother. And we saw slaves from every corner of the conquered empire wiped out for misbehavior and transgressions against their masters.

Radu was separated from me early on, leaving me alone within a fort filled with beasts in human skin. They put a turban on my head, taught me how to write, how to read and how to fight like a 'savaşçı'. But what terrified me the most were the ways of torture they showed me.

The sultan I was under made me do things that no child should do against a human. He told me that the enemy does not deserve mercy – because they were not human. I understood their teachings, embraced their fiendish behavior, swearing to myself that I would one day curse all of them for I did not want to be a monster like them, but a noble dragon watching over my people like my father did.

I would lose sight of that mindset and my innocence once I was shown the other side of this so-called empire.

The sultan had dragged me by my hair into his chambers, watched by guards, watched by his wives who laughed at me for reasons I would not know until I was thrown onto the bed.

It was the worst night of my life. I was like a vile beast thrown into a pit darker than the darkest caves of Wallachia where the wrenches slept. The anger and shame that grew within me over the years morphed the once starstruck child dreaming of becoming a wise and noble leader into a farce of a human only to be used and thrown aside once my country was of no need to them.

I was forced into their service and trained as a general to lead armies of my own against supposed enemies. Not once did my heart calm, forcing me to become a warrior who could only lash out and murder anything in my way. I felt as though I had no place in this world besides my worth on the battlefield. I abhorred this life and what they made me into.

It had been years since then when I saw my brother once more at last. I wanted to tell him so much, ask him to forgive me and help take back what was stolen from us. But the man who stood before me was no longer someone I knew. My brother, who used to be the beacon of light to me whenever I lost sight in those long and tedious years was no more. He did not even recognize me at first, talking to me as if I were his lesser before recognition shone through. Yet before us brothers could reconnect, Mehmed made his presence known trying to court my brother as if he was one of the sultan's wives.

Frankly, I was disgusted with the sight. My brother, reduced to the same level as all these women in the empire? Just another whore joining Mehmet's harem? No, I could no longer watch that act unfold before me – I did not want to see my brother become just another toy. It did not matter to me that the Ottomans were embracing their desires – what mattered was how they treated me and my beloved brother like tools they used to satisfy themselves.

It was from that moment forth that I became a beast. Something even my brother took note of looking at me, eyes filled with warning, but gone was what made me human. I left the Empire, returned home and without a second thought I used anything at my disposal, going as far as taking the throne my dying father left me. Killing those foul nobles and their subterfuge. Killing beasts lurking in our country – of my country.

The moment I turned from a beast to a human – ironically – was when I found myself embracing the title of Dracula – the son of Dracul the dragon – and when I found Christianity. Laugh as much as you want, but to be Christian and be part of the Ottoman empire? There was nothing more dangerous than religious zealots trying to justify their actions with the words of their god.

At least I found it admirable, that they were willing to throw their lives away without a second thought. Something that I sorrowfully missed in my own army. Once I became the shield of Europe, driving away the Empire and Mehmed by sullying the water, burning the grounds and impaling any pagan and prisoner I could get my hands on, chased away the Saxons from the capital of the Christian world and hunted those accursed raiders from Prussia, my brother once again appeared before me…this time as my adversary.

Betrayed, once again, thrown aside and ridiculed. Not even my death was for me to choose.

::: When there was no going back :::

_"So what is the big deal with the lot of you?"_

Ritsuka: What do you mean?

_"Oh, I dunno, how about that little episode y'all went on, you know the one where you've recruited Blavatsky and Mister Golden Boy – whom you left behind surprisingly enough. You know with –"_

Mashu – "How do you know that?!"

**"And you still don't believe that he reads memories…Either way, that is indeed something interesting you dug up, mate."**

_"Since when were you Australian?"_

_"If memory serves me right, all of you were jumping from one singularity to another, yes?"_

_"Sure, go ahead, ignore me…"_

Ritsuka: …

Mashu - "You are right in that regard, but certain events happened and now we have to maintain stability above anything else. However, that does not explain why we can't help in that Singularity!"

_"Are you daft? That is not a singularity, nor is it an event. If anything, it's a reality that can be considered to be within that Lostbelt of yours."_

_"Lost-what? Seriously, for somebody who claims to hate this reality you sure do know a whole lot about it!"_

_"Know thy enemy like thy know thyself."_

Ritsuka: !

Mashu - "!?"

_"By the way, shouldn't Doctor Roman stick his holographic head in here? You've been here for quite some time even if the events over there are rattling down faster than the eye can blink."_

Mashu - "Y-You consider – "

_"Oh, still hung up about that huh? Here's the gist ducky your reality is just one of many, some even more chaotic and others simple and straightforward – except for certain adult-related realities. Those do not have enough tangibility and are therefore nothing more than wishful thinking. Imagine your World like a chapter in a thick book, and that book is shelved next to its continuation, its prequel and other books by the same author(s), taking up -let's be generous- about two-thirds of a book shelf. That bookshelf is rowed neatly in line with other shelves which are placed inside a floor maybe even separated by categories and so on and so on._

_"That is the Multiverse in a nutshell."_

Ritsuka: …

Mashu – "…"

**"Way to make this awkward. Couldn't you have at least started slowly? Most people would** **already be lost upon the first sentence."**

_"You tried to explain that to me long ago and you used a snake analogy. A fucking snake analogy!"_

**"!? Wait…you remember?"**

_"Sure do."_

Ritsuka: Uhm, I hate to break the moment –

**"There wasn't one"**

Ritsuka: – that, I mean that. But what are we going to do about that? It's not like we can leave it alone and I've got the bad feeling about that white thing that's been appearing in the screen.

_"Yeah…about that. Even if it came from outside it's not like we can do anything about an Eldritchen of that Category."_

**"Not unless we jump into the story."**

_"Therefore, we're at a complete impasse. The only thing we really do is trying to calibrate your frequency back to Chaldea and get you the hell away from this mess as fast as possible. Staying any longer will only invite more bad luck and that mess you went through in the [Fragmentary Fractures] will repeat itself."_

Mashu: Still! We have to help no matter what!

_"…"_

::: To be continued :::

AN: Promised at long last we are nearing the half way mark of the story. It has been a wild ride so far and my depression at the dwindling popularity of this story has not managed to deter me away and stop this story altogether since I still need to expand on everything even more. In fact, if you're a fan of my works you've actually found the hint I left behind as to what this story is connected with.

Obviously I have to once again thank my Beta Emerian for their awesome help and I hope that this chapter has not ended up a huge mess I feared it would end up as!

And as usual I shall give shout outs to my dear reviewers fe as they are, c'mon people how am I supposed to improve my craft if nobody gives feedback?

 **blazenite104** \- Mate, you're the only one who reviewed last time and I'm so very grateful that you voiced your opinion. In case you're wondering what role the Grands will play, well the next chapter will give you some hints what the future may hold ^^ Hope you've liked this chapter as well XD

Thanks for readying and I hope we're going to get some feedback cause I really wish to improve the story and my writing but oh well who cares, right?

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year (in hindsight should this chapter be released in the next year)!

Yours dear,

Sha Yurigami

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably upload once or twice a week depending on the feedback (meaning if anybody is actually willing to give feeback) though I would appreciate if I got feedback for each chapter though I can't force anybody.


End file.
